


Kill The Light

by pleasanthell



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-26
Updated: 2012-08-25
Packaged: 2017-11-12 22:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 96,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/496110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasanthell/pseuds/pleasanthell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day would have been perfect for a movie. All the mourners dressed in back, holding depressing black umbrellas that keep the rain from their tears streaked faces, but make the water splash and muddy their shoes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Consequence by The Notwist

You're bored. Really bored. It was the week before school starts. No one's parents were letting them go out because they want to 'spend time' with their children before they go back to school. No one was really feeling the urge to go out anyway. Everyone was trying to get acclimated to the fact that school was about to start. So you are just sitting in your bed, flipping through the channels on the TV, not really paying attention to what is on.

Your attention is stolen by the house phone ringing. You wait for a moment to see if your mom was going to get it, but when the ringing continued you finally get up and run down the hallway ,snatching it off of the cradle.

"Hello?" you answer.

"Quinn?" a man's voice replied, "It's Tyler, Rachel's dad."

You furrow your eyebrows. Why the hell was Rachel's dad calling you? "Oh, hi."

"May I speak with Rachel?" he asks, "She forgot her inhaler and I wanted to see if she wanted me to bring it to her before you two get too far into your sleepover."

You look at the phone to see if this is Puck and his friends playing a joke on you. But the caller ID says Berry Residence. Before you can tell him that your last sleepover with Rachel was freshman year of high school before you ditched Rachel for the popular kids, he adds, "You know what? I'll just come drop it by."

"No," you state, "She's…in the shower, but I'll come get it for her."

"That's sweet of you," Tyler coos, "I'm glad you two became friends again."

"Uh, yeah," you answer awkwardly, "I'll be there in a few minutes."

Once in your car, you turn on some music. Your motives for doing what you're about to do are less than pure. You figure that if Rachel is using you for some kind of cover, to sleep over with Finn or whatever, that you should at least get something out of it. So you set out to pick up Rachel's inhaler and find her. You'll have something to lord over Rachel, which is pretty much good for any day.

You briefly stop by Rachel's house, dredging up a lot of old memories in doing so. You used to spend every weekend there, trying to escape your dad and sister and the pressures of being a Fabray. Until high school rolled around. There were all these new kids that were so cool and you were taught that you needed that. There was Brittany with her blonde hair, blue eyes, killer dancing skills, and her inability to say no. Then there was Santana who was as exotic and sexy as far as exotic and sexy got in Lima. Santana was also saddled with the inability to say no. All the girls around you started to find their own little niches and you were left, laying awake at night, wondering where you belonged in all that.

Then you found the Cheerios. You found a way to the top. It was hard work, but it paid off. Only to come crashing down a year later, but you don't like to dwell on that now.

Now, a week before the start of your senior year, you're going to find Rachel Berry and you are going to have the best blackmail material of your life because Rachel hates disappointing her dads and they'd be pretty disappointed if they found out that their baby girl has been sneaking off. Especially to be with some boy.

However, after a drive-by of Finn and Kurt's house, one of Puck's house and even one of Sam's house, Rachel's car was nowhere to be found. You bite your lip and think about a different route. This time you drive past Mercedes' house, Tina's house and Brittany's house. The only out of place car you find is Santana's car parked in front of Brittany's house and judging by their recently changed Relationship Statuses on Facebook, the car wasn't really all that out of place.

You pull to a stop at a stop sign and see that there is no one behind you so you pulled out your phone about to text Brittany, asking for Rachel's number when you spot the person you've been looking for. Across the street, is McKinley high and next to the building is the football stadium. Rachel is standing on the top of the bleachers facing the parking lot.

You see Rachel see you as you pull into the parking lot and park next to her car. The brunette disappears from the top of the bleachers as you cut off the engine. You grab Rachel's inhaler and get out of the car. You lean back against it, trying to stay aloof, when you see Rachel walk out of the gate from the field.

"What are you doing here?" Rachel asks, nervously scanning the horizon behind you.

You toss the object in your hand to Rachel who barely catches it, "Your dad called. You forgot your inhaler."

Rachel looks up at you with terror in her eyes. "Did you tell-"

"No," You cut her off, pushing off of the car. "Why do you even need that? Your last asthma attack was when we were six."

"My daddy still likes me to take it with me," Rachel opens the door to her car, tosses it onto the passenger's seat and closes the door, "Just in case."

"Why aren't you at Finn's house?" you look up at the darkening sky. The air outside is still sticky and warm, but the breeze promises rain that is supposed to fall at the end of the week.

"I-," She stops herself, "We've already spent a lot of time together."

"So why are you lying to your dads?" you walk over to Rachel's car and subtly peered inside to make sure Puck isn't hiding in the backseat or something. What you find surprises you even more than if you had found Puck. There is a pillow on one end of the backseat and a blanket sprawled across the rest of the seat. "Wait. Are you sleeping in your car?"

Rachel panics for a moment before sighing. "Fine. I never told my dads that we aren't really friends anymore and lately they've been asking why they never see you and why I never go to your house so I told them that you were on vacation and then finally I just told them that I was going to your house this weekend."

"So you're sleeping in your car?" you ask again.

"I don't want them to worry," Rachel shrugs and sits on the hood of her car, "They're already worried about how they're going to pay for Julliard or wherever I decide to go to school. I have a college fund, but our trip to New York City this summer was a reality check for them…for all of us. They think I don't notice them start to buy generic food and do a lot less clothes shopping, but I do. I don't want them to worry about my lack of a social life."

You feel a little guilty at those words. "What about Finn or Kurt or Mercedes?"

"Kurt's busy with Blaine and I haven't been able to get a hold of Mercedes," Rachel sighs and watches as you walk over to the front of her car, "Like I said, I've already spent a lot of time with Finn and as sweet as he is, there's only so much Finn one person can handle in a week."

You let out a small smile. She's right. You look around and put your hands in your pockets. After the little story Rachel just told, you feel bad about checking to see if anyone saw you together. You duck your head and kick at the ground, "Look, it's kinda dangerous for you to be sleeping in an empty parking lot in your car."

She nods like she already knows and knowing Rachel she does already know how dangerous it is as well as a few statistics to go along with it.

You can't really believe you are about to say what you are about to say, but before you know it, "Come over to my house," comes out of your mouth.

Her look is questioning, "What?"

"C'mon," you shrug, "You don't have to talk to me or anything and you can sleep in the guest room after my mom goes to bed."

A small smile grows on her face. It's not a full on Rachel Berry smile, but it's still a smile. "Thank you Quinn."

"Well Nationals is my last chance to get out of this Podunk town," you brush it off, "We can't get to Nationals if you get murdered, sleeping in your car."

"What do you mean last chance?" you squints her eyes a bit to study you better.

You shake your head, "Nothing. Let's get going. It's getting dark."

"This is kinda nice you know?" she asks, looking around your room and then shyly back at you, "Certainly nostalgic."

She does look really nervous and you suddenly feel like an asshole for making it this way. You used to practically live at each others' houses before you let your insecurities get the best of you.

You breathe through your nose and nod, "Yeah. I still have my pony princess pajamas if you want me to wear them."

She laughs at your joke and you feel more at ease in your own room than you have for a long time.

You don't remember ever struggling this much for something to say to her or to anyone for that matter, but two years of fighting seems to have built a communication barrier between you.

"We can watch a movie if you want," you offer lamely, "I don't know if I have anything you'll like, but…" You trail off finding that you're just as nervous if not more so than her.

"That's okay," she offers to you with a smile that seems reassuring, "We can watch whatever you want."

You nod and kneel down in front of your TV where your DVDs are stored. Just as you're about to ask her if she wants to watch a comedy or action flick, your door opens.

"Quinn?" your mom sticks her head into the room. When she sees Rachel she pauses before smiling, "Rachel honey, I didn't know you were here. It's been so long." Your mom fully steps into the room, "How are you?"

"I'm great," Rachel shoots your mom her patented Rachel Berry smile. "How are you?"

"I'm fantastic," she puts her hands on her hips with a delighted smile, "I was just coming to see what you girls wanted to do about dinner."

You look around the room. You don't really want to spend the last of your summer at home, watching movies with Rachel Berry. It's definitely not something you're going to write in your 'What I Did This Summer' essay.

"Actually I was hoping to take Rachel out to dinner to celebrate the end of summer," you say.

Rachel looks surprised as you as does your mom, but your mom just smiles and nods, "That's nice. You girls have fun. Don't forget that I have my ballroom dance class tonight and your sister will be here the day after tomorrow so if you two sneak into her room like you used to, please leave it in the same state you found it.."

"Okay," you nod to your mom, "Have fun."

"It's was so nice to see you Rachel," your mom states.

You both get into your car and you quietly drive to the restaurant. Rachel takes a deep breath when you park in the parking lot. "Why are you doing this?"

"I wanted to get out of the damn house," you say with a shrug.

"I mean letting me stay with you and taking me to the only vegan friendly restaurant in town?"

You huff, "Don't cream your pants yet Berry. I didn't know it's vegan friendly." Yes you did. "I'm just tired of Breadstix."

You both walk in and are immediately seated. It's after the aged population's dinner rush, so there are a lot of open tables.

"Where'd Sam move to?" she asks after you get your drinks.

"His family moved back to Tennessee. He seemed relieved though. His dad got his old job back."

"That's good. I'm worried about glee thought. Sam's voice harmonizes well with pretty much everyone."

"Maybe we'll get lucky and some kid will transfer. Hopefully one that doesn't speak Navi."

"I agree. We need more diversified male counterparts. Some sort of bass would be nice."

You just nod. It's a wonder that this whole conversation is normal. No insults. No rants or diva-outs. It's just a conversation.

"I read that you went to Europe this summer," you casually mention.

"I did," her eyes light up, "It was wonderful. All the architecture and the languages and theatres."

"Awesome."

"Did you happen to look at the pictures I posted?"

Yes. "No."

"Oh well some of them are absolutely gorgeous. I think someone who appreciated beautiful things such as you do would appreciate Europe."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean you. Your clothes and your hair. Your room. Everything is beautiful."

"Oh. Thanks."

She takes a bite, "What did you do this summer?"

"My mom and I drove to Philadelphia to see my sister for a few days then I've just been hanging out by my pool." You make a disgusted face and she laughs.

"I hope you used the appropriate SPF to safeguard your skin against harmful UV rays."

A smile plays on your lips. Something so Rachel Berry used to make you cringe, but here you are, smiling. "I did."

You spend the night watching movies and sleep until almost noon the next day. When you wake up, she's already awake and straightening your room.

She insists on leaving before breakfast but thanks you profusely before she leaves. At the door, she looks up at you with a bright smile, "I'm going to hug you now okay?"

You laugh and nod. She gently hugs you before stepping away, "I guess I'll see you at school Quinn."

"Yeah," you nod stupidly. You can't really describe the feeling of not waking up completely alone this morning, but right now you're over the moon.

She gives you a wave before walking briskly to her car and driving off. You close the door and walk back toward your room. This is senior year. This is your year and you think that maybe you can stop being so scared. Rachel was and still is a great friend. Maybe you can….

As you walk past your mom's room you hear sobbing. The door is closed, but you open it slowly and the noises get louder. You see your mom laying in a ball on the bed, her body shaking in sobs.


	2. Gravity by Sara Bareilles

The day would have been perfect for a movie. All the mourners dressed in back, holding depressing black umbrellas that keep the rain from their tears streaked faces, but make the water splash and muddy their shoes.

Your eyes scan for Quinn. You know she's got to be upset. As much as she pretended to hate her sister, you know that it's probably ripping her apart inside. You do spot her. She's wearing a black dress that brushes around her knees. Her umbrella isn't a depressing black, but a midnight blue. She probably wasn't paying attention when she grabbed it.

You're dressed for the part and easily fade into the crowd of black clothes and black umbrellas standing under a dark gray sky.

Through the whole ceremony, your eyes are trained on Quinn. Her face is the picture of stoic sadness. She is the crutch for her mother who is sobbing openly, not even trying to remain presentable. She's being strong now, but behind her eyes…you can see something breaking.

You know now is not the time to approach her. She has other, more important people to accept condolences from. So after the short ceremony is over and they lower Jenny into the ground, the people start to leave. The ones who didn't know Jenny or the Fabrays as well. Russell is among the first wave to leave. He coldly shakes off his shoes as he walks to his car. You've never hated anyone in your life but at that moment you hate Russell Fabray.

You rip your eyes away from him to focus on the objective. You came here for Quinn. To see if she needed anything. To comfort her in anyway you can. You love her and even though she has never indicated that she has feelings for you, you will be there for her.

At first scan you can't find her, but after a moment you see her blue umbrella bobbing between headstones and mausoleums. You quickly set off to follow her.

You're sure your shoes are ruined from the mud and grass caked to them, but it's a small sacrifice. You love her and you'll do anything for her.

Her umbrella disappears and after some looking through the rows and rows of concrete and marble you find her. She's sitting on the far side of the mausoleum, umbrella on the ground forgotten, sobbing into her arms.

You immediately sit down next to her and share your umbrella. You're not sure how receptive she's going to be to you, but it feels right to slide your arm around her shoulders so you do.

Without even looking up, she tumbles into you, clinging to any scrap of clothing that she can grab on you, pushing herself further into you. You feel her whole body vibrate with each tear as it wreaks havoc throughout her.

"I'm sorry," you whisper to her and kiss her forehead, "I'm so sorry."

"What are you doing here?" she asks a few minutes later.

"My dads told me what happened," you hold her watery eyes, "I came to see if you needed anything."

Her head finds it's way onto her shoulder, "Thank you. I just…I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"Do you want me to take you home?" you ask softly.

She shakes her head sadly, "I don't want to go home. There are…people everywhere and they tell me that they're sorry…I don't want that. The fake pity."

"I understand," you readjust your hold on the umbrella and scoot closer to her, "How about we go to my car? I'll drive around until you decide where to go."

She looks at you, into her eyes and she just looks. Maybe some deep soul searching probe or a blank stare you can't tell, but you allow it because she's grieving. "Rachel…I don't know…" Finally she nods, "I'll just tell my aunt okay?"

You pick her umbrella and close it up. Then you hold your umbrella over her as you both walk back to the procession. Your right side is getting drenched, but you're trying to keep Quinn dry. She has a brief conversation with an older looking woman, then she looks at you. You nod and lead her to your car.

You open the passenger door for her and she slides in. After you close the door, you rush to the other side and get in. Once your umbrella is safely in the plastic bag in the backseat of your car, you try to decide where to drive to. There's always the direction of McKinley. Or out toward the edge of town. You finally decide on a trip around the outskirts of Lima. There are a few small roads that always bring you some sort of solace after a long arduous day being the walking target of McKinley.

You drive for almost half an hour before something happens. She takes your right hand and laces your fingers together. It's a small gesture that might not mean much to other people, but it means the world to you.

Quinn takes in a deep, shaky breath, "My mom hasn't come out of her room since the phone call. She came out for the funeral obviously, but…I feel so bad for wondering if she's ever going to come out again. She lost her daughter and I wonder if I'm ever going to see my mom again."

"It's perfectly natural," you assure her, "She's your mom and you want her when you're grieving."

Tears trickle down Quinn's face, "What if she's never the same? What if she never comes out of her room?"

"I'm sure she will," you try to assure her and stroke her fingers with your thumb. You pull over on the side of the road and put the car in park, "She's just grieving. Once the grief has run it's course she'll be back to you."

Quinn just shakes her head, "I don't know."

"Well, you know that if you need anything, anything at all I will do my best to get it for you," you take your hand off of the wheel and cup her cheek, tenderly wiping away some stray tears. "So will my dads. You just have to let me know."

She collapses into your arms in another fit of sobs. You move the armrest up between you and pull her closer to you. Eventually you two shift so much that you're sitting sideways with her back pressed against the driver's door and she is laying on top of you. Her head is on your chest and her slow even breaths indicate that she has fallen asleep.

You don't mind though. You stroke her head and kiss for forehead. You're happy that you can provide a place for her to share her feelings and not be judged. That she feels safe enough with you to lay it all out in her time of need.

The rain is still tapping on the car. It's cool in the car and you wonder if Quinn's cold. You look around and can only spot your emergency jacket in the backseat. After some difficulty, you squeeze your arm between your seat and the door of the car to retrieve it from the floorboard. You safely wrap it around her and stroke her hair again.

Even in her advance state of grieving Quinn is the most beautiful person you've ever known. Even with her pink cheeks and puffy eyes, she's still gorgeous. You used to think it was envy when you'd look at her and find her stunning. It would send your heart fluttering and your knees to buckling. Then you realized at one of your many sleepovers that it was so much more. When she pushed you away, it shattered you, but you were determined to make it through. At first you tried to win her back, but when that didn't work you decided that then was not the time. You would wait.

You text your fathers to tell them of the situation and you get two replies rather quickly. Your dad tells you to make sure to start moving again before it gets dark and your daddy asks if Quinn would like to spend the night. You tell him that you don't know, but you'll certainly ask.

"I love you, you know that?" you whisper into your hair, "And I will do everything in my power to make you happy again."

She wakes up almost an hour later and not a moment too soon. You were getting the worst cramp in your neck. She sits up and pulled the mirror down on the passenger visor. After fixing her hair she sighs, "Sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep. I just haven't…"

You nod, "It's okay," You sit up straight and look over at you, "It's getting dark. Would you like to go get something to eat or I can take you home, or we can go to my house. My daddy asked if you wanted to spend the night."

"Would you…" she looks down at her hands in her lap, "Would you mind if I stayed with you…I don't…my room is right next to….my sister's."

"Of course," you assure her, "I'm sure I could talk my daddy into making those pancakes you loved. Maybe even a happy face with the whipped cream?"

She lets out a small smile, "Thanks Rachel."

You get Quinn to your house and changed into some of your workout clothes. You change as well and when you come out of the bathroom you see her laying on your bed, curled up into a pillow. You walk over to the bed and sit down on the opposite side as her. If you had you're way you've be holding her tightly against your body, but you don't want to break her Fabray reserve. She might run out of your room and into the rainy night. You don't want that. You want her here so you can help her and protect her. You want to hold her when she cries until she falls asleep and you want to be the first person she sees when she wakes up. You want to be the one to force her to eat something after a few days of nothing, but tears and bed. You want to help her so, so desperately there's a hollow ache in your chest.

"Do you need anything?" you ask softly as if not to startle her.

Her eyes find yours and she pulls the pillow tighter to her chest. "Can you….can you lay with me?"

You oblige her and lay down on the other side of the pillow she's holding. You're close enough for her to reach out and touch but far enough away that you don't feel she'd think you were suffocating her. You're surprised with she tosses the pillow aside and snuggles into you.

"I want my mom," she murmurs, "But I know she's not there."

"We could go find her," you offer.

She just shakes her head and burrows farther into you. You cradle the back of her head, waiting for her to explain. But after a moment she doesn't have to. That body at the funeral may have been Judy Fabray's, but her spirit is gone. You can't imagine what that must feel like to Quinn.

It doesn't take long for Quinn to fall asleep again. She must be completely exhausted and you don't blame her. You run your fingers through her hair and try to figure out how to make her feel better. You've never lost anyone that close to you. Although Quinn and Jenny weren't that close, they were still sisters.

After a while you decide that you need to go explain to your dads the situation and see if they have any suggestions. They only tell you what you've already decided on your own. That you three will do anything to help Quinn in any way you can. They've already offered to let her stay as long as she needs to.

As you're looking through your kitchen for something for her to eat when she wakes up you hear her calling you. You run up the stairs and into your room, dramatically throwing the door open.

She looks so small, so utterly broken. You collapse on the bed next to her and pull her into your arms. "Are you hungry?"

She shakes her head against your chest. "I know you have to eat and stuff, but….I don't want you to leave me."

"I won't," you swear and you know you won't leave her until she wants you to.

After you both stare blankly at the TV, she sighs, "I guess I need to take a shower."

"Not if you don't want to," you offer.

She nods, "I do. Um…can you…sing or something so I know you didn't leave? Is that weird?"

You smile softly at her and nod, "It's never weird to ask me to sing."

She chuckles, for the first time since the funeral and you appreciate it. She walks into the bathroom, leaving the door open. When you hear the shower start you start looking through your computer for something to sing. You don't want to sing something too upbeat because you don't want her to think you're happy her sister is dead or something. And you don't want to pick out something too depressing because you don't want to make her cry. So you click the random button and press play hoping that whatever song pops up will fit the bill. Of course when 'Candle In The Wind' starts up, you practically dive at your computer to skip to the next song. Unfortunately you don't know the next song well enough to sing, but after the first few lines you find it inappropriate. You go through almost a hundred songs before stopping on one that you could sing.

"Rach?" you hear her call you from the shower. You haven't been singing so she's making sure you're still there.

"I'm here," you call back, "I'm sorry. I'm looking for a song."

"Do you take requests?" she asks.

You swivel away from your computer to face the bathroom door, "Certainly."

"Do you have any Kitten?"

"I'm sorry, I've never heard of them," you say back. Although if Quinn likes it then you will download whatever you can find by them.

"Sara Bareilles," she says, "Gravity."

You know that song and it is sort of depressing. It's all piano and voice, soft and sad. "Are-are you sure?"

"Please," she says back. This time her voice is weaker than before and you're scared that she'll be crying again soon.

But you can't say no. So you find the track and start it with the special karaoke software and you stand because you need to project this. This song has the potential to make you start crying as well. Luckily you have a lot of experience singing while you cry.

_Something always brings me back to you._   
_It never takes too long._   
_No matter what I say or do, I still feel you here 'till the moment I'm gone._

_You hold me without touch._   
_You keep me without chains._   
_I never wanted anything so much than to drown in your love and not feel your rain._

You feel like this is your story. You and Quinn have been on again off again friends since you were little. At some point you tripped and fell for her. At some point you think she did too, but she's scared. It's understandable. Her father has taught her that things should be certain ways. Even though he's not in her life anymore, you know he made a lasting impression.

_Set me free, leave me be. I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.  
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.  
But you're on to me and all over me.  
You loved me 'cause I'm fragile.  
When I thought that I was strong.  
But you touch me for a little while and all my fragile strength is gone._

Something always happens to bring you back together with her. You know that you'll never have an epic love story with her like Brittany and Santana have. You know that you'll never be one of the people that everyone thinks will be together forever like Puck and Lauren. You won't be the perfect couple like Blaine and Kurt. You know that most likely nothing will come of your feelings because Quinn would be scared if she did reciprocate your feelings and if you tell the truth you're scared too.

_Set me free, leave me be. I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.  
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.  
But you're on to me and all over me._

_I live here on my knees as I_   
_Try to make you see that you're_   
_Everything I think I need here on the ground._   
_But you're neither friend nor foe though I_   
_Can't seem to let you go._   
_The one thing that I still know is that you're keeping me down_   
_You're keeping me down, yeah, yeah, yeah_   
_You're onto me, onto me and all over_

You're not in some struggle with your sexuality. You're bisexual. You know it and accept it. You've only told a handful of people. It's not something you want to broadcast in a town like this. Finn's first thought was threesome. You shouldn't have expected any less. Kurt just nodded like it was common knowledge. Tina and Mercedes questioned you incessantly before moving on to the latest gossip.

You like Quinn and you would drop Finn in a heartbeat is there was any chance of a relationship with Quinn. But you're leaving Lima at the end of this year. You're going to New York to become a star and she has no plans of getting out of Ohio. You made a promise to yourself in New York at Nationals last year. No one is going to keep you in Ohio. You figure that someday you'll be married to one of Broadway's leading men/women and Quinn will be the one that got away. You'll look back and think 'what if…'.

_Something always brings me back to you  
It never takes too long_

When the song winds down you look for another one, but she exits the bathroom in a towel. Her eyes are red and you know she was crying while you were singing. You know what she needs just by her look so you walk to your dresser to get out some pajamas for her.

When you present her with some pajamas that you hope are acceptable, she half-heartedly smiles back. Her hair has grown a little since New York, but it doesn't quite touch her shoulders. There's water falling from the tips onto her shoulder before it rolls downward, before being caught by the towel. Even wet and red-eyed and broken, she's still the most beautiful person you know.

She steps back into the bathroom, again not closing the door. You walk over to the bed and sit down on the edge of it with your head respectfully bowed. You don't want her thinking that you were staring at the bathroom door trying to catch a glimpse of her naked or something.

When she returns, she has her wet towel in her hand, "What do you want me to do with this?"

You stand up and take it from her, hanging it on the bar in the bathroom. It's warm and humid the bathroom and you can't resist using your squeegee on the foggy mirror. When you set it back down in the holder and turn around she's standing right there. You straighten up and look at her questioningly.

She snakes her arms around your neck and pulls you to her. You hold her around the waist and allow her to crumble into you. Her skin is hot from her shower and the tank top you gave her isn't much of a barrier between you. She smells like your shampoo and a smell that you've learned is uniquely and pleasantly Quinn.

Before you can stop it, your hand is in her hair, cradling the back of her head against your shoulder. You could have done so without infusing your hand into her hair, but it seems you don't have as much control of your body as previously thought. Your arm around her waist is at a respectful height and positioning so this may be okay after all.

Her hair is so soft and you know that not all of it can be attributed to your shampoo. It's been like this since you can remember.

Over the course of the next few days, Quinn is at your house, off and on. She goes home to make her mom things to eat and take them to her in her room. She's been sleeping at your house, in your bed cuddled into you. She cries for hours after she gets back from her mom's house. She lost not only a sister in this, but a mother as well.

"Quinn honey, we're going school supply shopping for Rachel," your dad offers from the doorway of your room the evening before school starts, "Do you want us to pick up yours as well?"

That set her off, sobbing onto your already tear soaked shoulder. You glare at your father from over the top of Quinn's head, but give him a gentle nod. Judy's not going to do it so your fathers must.

When school starts you're not surprised to find that when Quinn picks you up she's in a Cheerio uniform. It probably wouldn't surprise you that ten years from now she can still rock it…and would.

"What's this for?" you ask, looking at the slushy that was just handed to you by some guy on the football team you've never seen before.

"To throw at someone," Quinn shrugs.

"I'm not going to do this." you hand it back to him. You're surprised by how quickly they assume that you're one of them. Because you're with Quinn, not with-with Quinn, but associating with her that you're some kind of popular now.

"Why not hit Azimio?" she asks, even though he's in earshot and his eyes widen.

"I'm not going to continue the cycle. Violence is not the answer." you vigorously shake your head. "I'm sorry Quinn. I know you want me to fit in but... I won't. Not like that."

She doesn't protest to your refusal. She just nods and accepts it. Her eyes scan the hallway and she apparently she spots someone she wants to talk to because she takes off walking, linking her arm with yours to pull you along.

Unfortunately the person she wants to talk to, and the person you've been ignoring (his phone calls, text messages, Facebook messages, and emails) since the funeral is Finn. He looks confused when you two walk up together and you have to admit you're as befuddled as he looks.

"I know you've been totally ignoring Finn because I'm like the sad girl that you feel obligated to hang out with," Quinn says quietly as you walk over. "I think I can make it to Physics without having a nervous breakdown so you can hang with your boyfriend." She basically shoves you at Finn, which you know she probably didn't mean, but you weren't ready and you're small. As she walks away she says, "But keep your phone on you just in case."

You stand awkwardly in front of Finn. He just smiles, confused and nervous. "Where have you been?"

You take a deep breath, "I've been with Quinn since the funeral."

"What funeral?" he asks.

You pull him into an empty classroom and quietly tell him what happened. You tell him that he's not allowed to make a big deal about it and not to let Quinn know that he knows.  
His face is somber. He listens to everything you say and when you're done he says, "Let me know if I can help."

You give him a hug and walk back into the hallway. You want to make sure that Quinn made it to class. It seems so trivial, but you never know what's going to set her off.

"So I guess you don't have time to go out on a date with me Friday," he offers.

You shake your head as you scan the hallway, "I'm sorry Finn. I think it would be best if we took a break. I'm not going to have much time in the near future and I don't want to feel like I'm neglecting you."

He looks a saddened, but he nods because he understands. "I get it."

You give him a brief smile before walking off to the direction of the science classrooms. People go out of their way to get out of your way and it's a strange feeling. Most of the school has no idea why Quinn has taken you under her wing. They just know that now you're off limits. It's kinda nice. For the first time you don't have to worry about slushies and the hair care products you so painstakingly arranged in your locker probably won't be used unless it's a touch up.

Of course you know that Quinn is really under your wing. She's wounded and she doesn't want anyone to know. You're effectively standing in front of a gaping hole in her, hiding it from the world.  
Even Santana has stayed off of your case because she's one of the few people that knows what happened over the summer. Plus she's got her own problems to deal with. She'd been skittish around the other Cheerios and you're sure her rejoining had more to do with Quinn and Brittany rejoining than her own want to be on the team. And this morning when she walked alone past everyone who tried to talk to her, she was furious with someone because her face didn't contort from it's seemingly permanent scowl and her eyes didn't

So you escort Quinn to every class staying one step behind and to the side of her as there is always another cheerio one step behind and to the other side.

You were surprised when Quinn had her schedule changed to six out of seven classes on your schedule. She's even in your gym class even though Cheerios takes care of that credit for her. Your free periods are at the same time so she'll go to either the choir room or the library and you'll follow her. The one time you suggested that you go somewhere else tears filled her eyes.

There are also times during the day where Quinn disappears. You find her either in the Cheerio locker room or the choir room sobbing.

Coach Sylvester didn't object to your formal presentation on obtaining a key card to the Cheerios' newly electronic doors. In fact she made you one on the spot. You like to think that you were persuasive about it but you're sure it had more to do with her own sister's passing this last year than your color coded PowerPoint.

It's been a little over a week into the school year and when you're on the way to meet Quinn after the only class you don't have together, there's a huge crowd in the middle of the hallway, blocking your path. You want to get to Quinn as fast as possible. Even though she's recovering slightly, you know her sadness is slowly turning into anger and you fear for every freshman the bumps into her accidentally.

You try to walk about the crowd until you see what they're all staring at. You see a flash of red and white before you realize that it's Quinn and Santana on the floor. This is not their usual hair pulling and shoves. This is fists and blood. They're both angry and they're both unleashing on each other. They're both yell and cursing taking their frustrations out on each other.

You swiftly kneel down and grab the closest one by the waist trying to pull them apart. Unfortunately you grab Santana who doesn't hesitate to shove you into a locker before running back at Quinn who is being held back by Finn.

His grip doesn't last when Quinn sees your head slam into the locker. She launches herself out of his arms and she jumps on Santana, trying to wail on her as best she can. It frightens you how angry they both look. You look around desperate for a teacher. Preferably coach Beiste or someone equally strong and intimidating.

"Santana!" Brittany yells pushing through the crowd. She grabs her best friend/now (as you've learned from Mercedes and Tina as well as Santana's absence from the first glee club meeting) ex-girlfriend around the waist and hauls her off of Quinn.

Santana throws Brittany off of her, "Don't touch me!"

"Santana," Brittany sighs, but relents her hold.

"Why don't you go fuck your boyfriend?" Santana snaps and punches a locker before stalking off with Brittany walking after her. You can hear them yelling at each other from the far end of the hallway.  
You turn to find Quinn who is wiping blood off of the corner of her mouth, has materialized next to you. "Are you okay? Do you need to go to the nurse?"

You feel a little dizzy but shake your head, "You do though." The crowds have left because the fight is over and move to their classes.

It takes a little coercing from you to get her to the nurse's office. Santana's already there with an ice pack over her eye left eye, her legs dangling from one of the examination tables. She's angrily glaring at the ground and neither one of you dare say anything to her.

The nurse sighs when she sees Quinn standing there, bleeding from multiple cuts. She quickly tends to Quinn and run out to get her an ice pack as well, when Brittany walks in. Santana flips out again the second she steps in. She begins yelling, "Get out! I don't want to see you!"

"C'mon Santana," Brittany fingers the hem of her skirt, nervously, "Don't be like this."

"You can't just dump me for that asshole who by the way treated you like shit and expect me to be happy about it or even want to see your face ever again. So fuck off Brittany," she says coldly and turns her face away from all of you.

You look up at Brittany who looks appropriately wounded. You feel bad for her because she's never been unkind to anyone that you know of so you give Quinn's hand a squeeze and a glance that says you'll be right back before stepping outside, where Brittany has shrunken away to.

You worry about leaving Quinn and Santana alone in a small room together so soon after a fight or at all, but you figure that they've had enough for today. Quinn's not really angry with Santana and Santana's not really angry with Quinn. You know why Quinn is angry and for the sake of the glee club and general peace in the school, you set out to find a way to quell Santana's anger because you've found that Quinn is willing to fight and with her shortened fuse and Santana's notoriously absent fuse, you'll be accompanying them on many more trips to the nurse's office if you can't fix it.


	3. Chinatown by Kitten

"Are you okay?" you look over at Santana and ask.

"Bitch please," she rolls her eyes, "I didn't even break a nail."

You probably should have expected an answer like that. You look out the door and can only see Rachel. Her head it tilted up and she's nodding occasionally. You wonder what Brittany's telling her because she's been telling everyone something different. You knew something was up the second you and Rachel walked in the first day of school and you saw Brittany pushing Artie around.

Then you saw Santana a furious hurricane of 'get the fuck out of my way'. She slushied at least seven people that first day back. You're both flaming vortexes of fury now. It was only a matter of time before you found each other and had it out.

You thought it would make you feel better and for a few seconds when you fist connected with Santana's eye, it did. You didn't have anything or anyone else to worry about. You were just letting everything go.

You don't know what started the whole fight. You remember yelling and then fists started flying. You look over at Santana and ask, "Why were we fighting?"

She shrugs half-heartedly, "Fuck if I know."

You look back out to the door and find that Rachel's gone. It makes you anxious to know where she is and not be able to see her. It terrifies you when you have no clue where she went. You start to get up to go find her when you hear sniffling.

A single tear rolls down Santana's cheek before she catches you looking and wipes it away. Your eyes dart from the doorway to Santana. You want to go find Rachel, but Santana's sitting right there looking completely shattered.

"What happened?" you ask, expecting a snarky response.

"I don't know," she sighs, letting out a ragged breath, "I really don't."

"When did it happen?" you turn to face her as she bows her head, staring at her shoes.

She kicks one of her feet, "The day before school started. Sorry Santana I've been dying to fuck that crippled shit all summer."

You have a feeling that she's paraphrasing. "No warning?"

"No nothing," she looks down. She looks defeated. Then she shakes her head, "Whatever. Look, I'm sorry. I know you're hanging out with Rachel and all, but if you ever wanna scrap or get wrecked or whatever you know where I am."

You nod to Santana. In her own little way, Santana just offered to help you grieve. You think that it may actually be a good idea to 'scrap' with her as she put it. Maybe just in a better venue with the proper protective equipment. A lot of the time now, you feel like punching things. Getting 'wrecked' also seems like a viable option. You haven't turned to alcohol yet because your mom's liquor cabinet is locked and you have no idea where Rachel's dads hide their booze.

"My parents are out of town," Santana offers out of nowhere. "I guess I'll have a party or something. Wanna ditch the rest of the day?"

You clench your jaw thinking of what Rachel will think. She's been your constant companion for the past week or so. She takes care of you and holds you when you have a nightmare. She sings you to sleep and makes sure that you eat. She's been your everything, but you're scared that if you keep up this weak shit that she'll get tired of having to baby-sit you and eventually just stop. And you'd be shattered if that ever happened.

You've consciously missed her friendship over the past few years, but you didn't know how much. You can't explain your constant need to be around her now, but you feel like you're smothering her even though you can't get enough of being around her. You feel calm around her. You don't feel like an out of control mess. But you need her and in order to keep her, you need to give her a little space.

"Yeah," you slide off of the table, "Let me tell Rachel."

Santana doesn't comment on it like you expect. She just sets the ice pack on the table and follows you out. Rachel's walking back toward you when you step out.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asks, looking you over.

"I'm fine," you assure her, "I'm just going to leave."

Rachel looks at you suspiciously and then looks at Santana, "Where are you going?"

You pipe up for Santana, "We're going to go hang out at her house. It's not like we're going to get into trouble for fighting anyway."

"So you're done fighting?" Rachel's eyes are still locked onto Santana.

Santana nods, "Totally. I'll take care of her." Santana holds her hand up like she's taking an oath.

Rachel exhales and looks at you, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

You nod. You can see that Rachel's definitely not happy with your decision. You're only going to miss three classes and it's not like anyone at your house is going to notice. The only way you know that your mom isn't in a coma is that when you put food on the nightstand, tiny bits of it disappear. The TV flickers, highlighting her lifeless eyes. You feel yourself getting choked up thinking that you've been orphaned in most respects.

Rachel pulls you into her arms. "What's wrong babe?"

You sniffle and hold back the tears, "I'm fine. Really. I just need some time away from school. Santana and I are just going to go to her house."

"I'm having a party tonight Berry," Santana interjects, "You can come. Bring your man too."

"I don't have a man," Rachel glares at Santana. You know why. She thinks that skipping school was Santana's idea. Well it was, but you probably would have come to this conclusion on your own. You don't feel like staying here and watching as people stare at you in a mixture of fear and pity. The troubled girl with no family. Tears cloud your vision again and you decide that it's time to leave.

"S?" you ask.

"Ready?" Santana asks back.

You nod.

"I'll drive," she states and starts to walk off.

You look down at the girl standing in front of you with her arms crossed, "I'll be fine. I promise."

"If you need anything," she looks intensely at you, holding your eyes hostage, "Call me or text me."

You feel better with each word she says. You wrap your arms around her and hold her to your body. "Thanks Rach."

"I'm serious Quinn," she pulls away and eyes Santana once again before turning.

"Me too," you tell her. You link your arm through hers as you all walk toward the student parking lot.

At the doors, Rachel hugs you and glares at Santana once again before watching you walk out to Santana's car. When she turns it on some kind of angry, punk rock comes on. Not something you expected. She puts her sunglasses on and peels out of the parking lot. Then you remember that this is Santana. Expect the unexpected and worse comes to worst lead with a jab.

You follow Santana around the store after you pick up lunch and send out mass text invites. She picks up cups and ping pong balls as well as a few cases of beer. You don't ask her about a fake ID or whatever. You certainly don't have one.

As you pass the hair care aisle you stop her and pull her past the shampoos to the hair dye. You're not sure why. You're impulses are starting to get stronger and stronger as time goes by and it's getting harder and harder to ignore them. So you're going with this one.

"Gonna go brown? Because that would be so hot." Santana rides the cart past you, ruffling your hair as she passes.

"No," you state and find the small section of non-natural colors. You look them over before Santana plucks one off of the shelf and tosses it in the basket, "I got this. Let's go."

You don't see what color she picks and when she pays for everything (flashing her fake ID at the register), she makes sure that you can't see the box.

It's getting later so you both decide that abandon the movies you've been watching and start getting ready for the party. You both pre-game as she dyes your hair. As you're waiting for the timer on her phone to go off, you look over at her. She's sitting on the edge of the bathtub painting her nails hot pink. You've both had quite a few shots so you stare at her a little longer than you usually would. She doesn't seem to notice because she's focused pretty hard on painting her nails pink. You wonder why because she usually doesn't stray far from skin tones and red, but when she finally pulls the towel off of your hair you see why. She was showing solidarity. Your hair is pink.

Now if you had parents anymore you may freak out but you like this. Russell is non-existent and Judy is little more than a dent in her bed. You hand itches to pick up your phone and text Rachel. Just to know that she's still there. That she's still talking to you. That she still cares. But you don't. You need to give her some fucking space so she doesn't get tired of you.

A grin forms on your face and you pick up your almost empty can of beer. The dye box is next to it and you pick it up. It's called Barbie Pink and it couldn't be more perfect. The contradiction. Straight-laced Barbie's name being used for pink hair dye. You love it.

Santana walks up behind you and surveys your hair, "Okay now we're going to give you just fucked hair and a tiny little black dress and you will be ready."

You nod. "Awesome."

You both walk around in your underwear getting ready until you hear Puck's truck rumble up. Lauren's in the passenger's seat which sort of derails your plans to jump him tonight. Not sex but you wanted to make out with him for a while. He's a good kisser and you feel like going crazy for once.

Santana appears behind you to look out the window. She opens the window and calls, "Door's open asshole."

Puck flips her off and grabs a cardboard box filled with liquor bottles. Lauren just shakes her head and you both share a shrug.

You actually sort of like Lauren so all plants to make a go at Puck are out the window. Finn is so way beyond out of the question. You wouldn't do that to Rachel even if they are on a break. You wonder if C3 is still together. You wouldn't mind feeling up Mike's abs.

Santana walks into her closet and pulls out a deceptively innocent looking white, cocktail dress, "What do you think of that girl that tried out for glee club?"

You frown trying to remember what happened at the last glee meeting. You spend most of it holding onto Rachel's hand trying to stop yourself from crying because someone sang one of Jenny's favorite songs. Then you remember who Santana was talking about. Tall, long, light brown hair. "The one that couldn't sing?"

"Yeah. She was hot right?" Santana exhales and looks around the room like she lost something.

You shrug, "I guess."

Then Santana nods to herself, "I'm going to tap that."

"Do you think that's a good idea? She seems kind high maintenance and bitchy." And she's kinda rebounding like mad. But that girl does seem high maintenance and bitchy and you don't think that Santana could handle going from Brittany sweet to prima donna bitch immediately. Plus she has a stupid name. You don't remember it, but you seem to remember thinking that her parent's must not really like her all that much because they gave her that name.

Santana seems to know what you're thinking and slinks into her dress, "I said I was going to fuck her not marry her."

"Who?" Puck appears in the doorway of the bedroom. Lauren is absent and you make an attempt at modesty and pull your dress on.

"New girl," Santana states then turns to you, "How sexy is Quinn?" You should add at this point that it's getting creepy how nice Santana's is being to you. You know that you're the bereaved, but Santana already took care of that with the offer of drinking and fighting. This is going overboard. You wonder where _your_ Santana went.

"Super sexy baby mama," he gives you a kind smile. Not the pervy one you were expecting. You guess he is really happy with Lauren. You start to feel bad about your plan to go after him. Then you scold yourself. This is the new you. The 'I don't give a fuck' Quinn. You'll do whatever you want because life is short. Because you're hot and no one tells you what to do.

You get a text as you follow Santana and Puck downstairs. It's Rachel. You don't think you've ever been more giddy or relieved to get a text in your life. _On the way, need anything?_

You tell her that you don't need anything but her. That sounded cheesy even to you. You know that Santana is raging and will need her own babysitter. No one will be there to make sure you don't lose your mind even more if Rachel isn't there.

Lauren hands you all drink as you hit the ground floor. The party has begun with your four downing your drinks and hollering toward the ceiling. It's not ten minutes later that there's a flood of people in the house. Santana ditches you for the new girl with the stupid name you can't remember and you talk up a few football players for a while.

When Rachel arrives you immediately see her and walk over to her. She gives you a dazzling smile when she sees you. Then her mouth drops open when she sees your hair.

"Do you like it?" suddenly you're nervous about it. You wonder if you should have called her first or checked to see what Santana picked out before letting her do it.

She runs her fingers through it and you catch yourself leaning into her touch. She let's out a nod and a reassuring smile, "I like it."

You smile and hug her, happy for Rachel approval.

"Where's Santana?" Rachel looks around the room, scanning for you partner in crime.

"She's making out with the new girl," you gesture to the far corner where Santana is in the new girl's lap.

"That was fast," Rachel offers.

You take a sip from your cup and offer it to Rachel. She shakes her head, "Designated driver for the glee club."

"Is Mike here?" you ask, walking with her as she goes to the kitchen.

Rachel shrugs and picks up a cup, filling it with orange juice, "I think he's somewhere around here."

You look into your drink and run your finger around the lip, "Is Tina with him?"

"I assume so. Why?" She turns to you, looking confused.

Damn Tina. Puck and Mike are tied down. You just want to be the bad girl for once and be that girl that makes out with the guy for fun, leaving whenever you feel like it. "No reason."

"Do you like Mike?" Disappointment is etching into her delicate features. You're scared that she's disappointed in you.

"Not particularly. I just wanted to make out with someone. And have a good time but the only acceptable guys are all taken. Mike's got Tina. Puck's got Lauren, Finn's got you..." you check off and finish your drink so you can make a new one while you're here.

"We're on a break," she clarifies.

You raise an eyebrow at her, "Do you honestly want me to make out with Finn?"

She shakes her head, "No I suppose not." You're suddenly very aware of how Rachel's tongue glides across her bottom lip before she speaks again. "Quinn, you could have your pick of anyone."

You take a deep breath and look down at the ground in the kitchen. The tiles on the floor are a tan color. You guess Santana's mom was going for Tuscan. Then you realize that your brain is wondering off. You think it must be the alcohol. It always makes your brain slower and more easily distracted.

"Quinn?" Rachel asks softly, bringing you back to reality.

You blink and find her worried eyes. The caring in them makes your whole body warm. You take a step closer to her because you love touching her. It brings you so much peace. She seems to sense this and places a gentle hand on your hip. She tilts her head up and for a split second you think that she's looking at your lips. That she is thinking about kissing you. You don't see how that would be bad. It might make things a little awkward, but if you like just touching her….her kisses must…

Wow you've been drinking a lot. You're thinking about kissing Rachel. You mentally hit yourself on the nose with a rolled up newspaper…or magazine…probably Vogue or Allure. Something classy and fashiony like that. There your thoughts go again.

But why can't you? You're 'fuck the world' Quinn. You're 'I don't give a shit' Quinn. You're a badass. You're a new person. You're carefree. You're hot and no one will tell you what to do. Plus there's the whole…your attention is stolen when Rachel giggles.

"I lost you again," she smiles, running her fingers the length of your hair.

You smile back, "Sorry."

She starts to say something, but something blows up behind you. Not literally of course, but there's yelling and you're so not surprised to hear Santana. "What made you think for a second that it was okay to come to _my_ party?"

You turn around and run to where the voices are. You'd never admit this out loud, but you're so ready to get into another fight. Plus, Santana's your new lonely friend. You don't feel as been tagging along with her as you do Rachel because she's mostly alone too.

Of course when you get there, you know there will be no physical fighting. Brittany is standing in front of Santana, still in her Cheerios uniform. Santana can't seems to come up with any more words so she turns and runs up the stairs. Brittany takes off after her. You start to go, but there's a hand on your wrist.

Rachel holds onto you as she says, "I think they need to talk."

You think for a moment. You doubt you can do any good up there. So you shrug. You've lost your party mood when you thought you would get some kind of outlet for all your stupid emotions. Now that you can't fight, what else are you going to do? Rachel let's go of your wrist and her hand slides down yours as she let's go, but you catch her hand before it falls completely to her side.

She gives you a sweet smile and squeezes your hand. You instantly feel calmer. "Do you wanna go outside?"

When you get outside, you both sit on pool chairs. You want to move over to the chair that Rachel is in but again you don't want to suffocate her.

"Did you have fun today?"

You think about it. Yeah you guess you did, "yeah I think."]

"You think?"

"I don't really remember what fun feels like."

She reaches between you and takes your hand, "You will. I promise."

You finally give in and lay down on the chair next to Rachel. She wraps her arms around you. You've found that your bodies are very compatible and it's easy to find a place where you're both comfortable.

"Are you getting tired of me?" you have to ask, "Please be honest because I don't want you to get sick of me. I can hang out with Santana more." Tears fill your eyes.

She looks down at you when you sniffle. She gives you a gentle smile, "I'm definitely not getting tired of you." You see something in her eyes that assures you that this is the truth. She smiles, "besides, if I leave you unsupervised with Santana again I fear you'll come back with tattoos or a nose ring."

You lay your head back down on her shoulder and feel better about the situation. You joke back, "I may."

You both lay there in silence until you decide to rejoin the party. You're still on the prowl for a make out partner. You're going to go wild tonight if it kills you.

Rachel breaks off from you to go to the bathroom. You walk around for a while. Two more shots down and you decide to widen your search by considering both genders. You'll do what you want because you don't have supervision. You're drunk and hot and young and sad.

You spot Santana descend the stairs alone. You don't know if that means that Brittany left or that she's still upstairs. But when you see the new girl with the stupid name walk down the stairs adjusting her dress, you know that Brittany's gone. Santana completed her objecting and has, in the process, promises to make the next glee club meeting all that more drama filled and thus interesting.  
Santana's eyes land on you and she walks over. "How was she?" you ask.

Santana shrugs dismissively. "This party sucks."

"Need another drink?" you ask.

She nods and you both fill up your cups.

After another shot with Santana you're pretty beyond drunk. Everyone gets a hazy outline and you feel like you're floating. You walk around for a while just taking in all the muted noises and the blurry people before you finally find a make out partner who eagerly drags you up the stairs as soon as you suggest it.


	4. Colly Strings by Manchester Orchestra

You were a little surprised when Quinn asked if you wanted to make out, but you just went with it. You just want to forget. You've been trying with other girls all night, but you can't. All you can remember is how Brittany tastes and the way her hands know exactly where to go because they just fit.

Now, straddling Quinn on the edge of your bed, kissing her as she holds onto you, you feel a little flicker of something. You're heartbroken and she's just broken and something about this just works. You don't feel an emotional spark that you do with another blonde that you're not going to think about anymore, but you feel content. You don't feel pressure or the need to compare Quinn to your... ex. You hate thinking of her like that. As your ex.

After a while you start to taste the salty feel of tears. You're not sure which one of you it's coming from, but it doesn't matter because when you start to pull away to see if she's okay, she pulls you back in kissing you twice as hard.

You know that this is a one time, drunken thing. You're okay with that. You're not actually sure how you're going to be able to look at her tomorrow because of this. Especially if it's you that's crying and at this point you're almost ninety percent sure that it's you.

When the door opens, you both pull away and a shocked looking Rachel stands at the door, one hand on the frame and one on the knob. Her jaw moves up and down with words that she can't actually get out. "I-," she finally sputters, "I'll just…" She looks away from you both, embarrassment all over your face.

You just stand up and wipe at your cheeks. As you thought, they're wet. When you look at Quinn you see that there are tears on her face too. Whether they're yours or her own you don't know. You rub your eyes hard trying to make them stop. You don't want to do this. Especially in front of them. You mumble something about the bathroom and walk off.

When you return, Quinn is laying out on your bed and Rachel is sitting next to her, stroking her hair. It looks like such an intimate moment that you don't listen to what they're saying and just slip out the door.

You make your way out of the party and into the empty backyard, where you lay down on one of the lounge chairs by the pool and proceed to cry yourself to sleep.

The next day, Quinn wakes you up. Now that you're sober you find that you do in fact have a problem looking directly at her. She seems to have the same problem. It's fine with you. You do find that Rachel is still here as well. She's inside picking up cups and tossing them in a trash bag. You and Quinn help her clean up and take the trash out.

Then you decide to take a shower and tell them you'll meet them at school. That's a lie. You don't actually plan on going to school today. You know she'll be there and you don't think you can handle seeing her today.

After you shower, you lay back down in your bed. You get a text when your first period is supposed to start. Your phone dings multiple times. You get more than one text almost all at once. The first one is from Quinn.

_Quinn: Where are you?_

You take a deep breath and reply simply with: _Bed._ Then you move on to your other texts. Puck wants to know where you are as well and Brittany asks if you feel okay. You text Puck back and tell him that it's none of his damn business and you completely ignore Brittany's text.

You don't want her to be sweet today. Especially not to you. You want her to leave you alone. You're trying to pretend that she doesn't exist.

* * *

You have no idea why Quinn would want to suffer through gym with you but you're glad she's here. As usual the coach gives her the reigns of the class. She appoints herself a dodgeball team captain and picks you first then picks the fiercest group of athletes you can imagine before letting the other captain (Jacob) have the leftovers.

When the battle begins you cower behind her. You dodged a very large bullet last year with your nose not being broken too bad but you're not taking any chances this year. She looks back at you and smiles. No one dares throw a ball at Quinn Fabray so taking her eyes off of the game is of no consequence.  
"Let's go," she says taking your hand and pulling you back to the locker room.

"I doubt that my absence during an activity is going to maintain my 4.0."

"You have an A," she assures you, "I filled it out myself."

You're not sure you like the whole getting an A like this but you're going to enjoy the free time you have with Quinn.

"What do you want to do?" you ask as you pull off your gym shirt. You see her lick her lips and you know that this time you didn't imagine it. You wonder if this is part of the badass thing or if she is really attracted to you. But more likely her lips are parched.

You change into one of your signature skirt, sweater combos and lead her to the library. You both sit in a small sitting area in the back of the library, by the windows. You crack open the book that you were supposed to be reading for homework last night when you went to the party to make sure Quinn was okay.

You feel her curl up next to you on the couch and lean into you. You pick up your arm so she can really lean into you and you feel her tuck her head under your chin. You just put your arms around her snugly and turn to your book. It seems like you're going to be reading for two.

When you look down a few chapters later you see Quinn staring off into space. You set the book down and bring your hand up to the side of her head and ask, "Where'd you go?"

She lets out a small smile and takes a deep breath that you can feel. "I don't know. Last night was…the first time I've really…not cared."

"Not cared about what?" you ask quietly. This is a library after all.

"What people thought. How I looked…everything," she says and looks up, "I mean I made out with Santana for like half an hour."

"That was certainly unexpected," you have to admit. You know that you were insanely jealous. If Quinn was going to use someone as her outlet, it's logical that it would be you right? You're the one that's been there since the funeral. You're the one that holds her while she's asleep. You're the one that makes sure she eats.

But of course you know that you don't want to her use you. You know that in the end you would be absolutely heartbroken. You would trick yourself into thinking that she's in love with you every time she kisses or touches you. Pretty much like you do with everyone you date, but you don't want that with her. If something ever blossoms you want it to be real. You want her to see you and not just an avenue for her pain.

Her gaze loses its certainty and her eyes are questioning. "Are you…mad at me?"

You surmise that your thoughts must have manifested on your face. You immediately shake your head, "No. You're allowed to do something that makes you feel good without someone being angry at you for it."

She looks down and nods, "Oh. Okay." After a beat she pauses, "Do you think that Santana can hang out with us sometimes? She's lonely."

"Of course," you say without pause, but in your mind there is plenty of pause. Having both of them is like smashing two atoms together and hoping that nothing happens. They went from viciously fighting to being best friends to making out all in the same day. They're unpredictable separately. Together they're…scary.

You decide not to think about it for a while. Instead you look at Quinn and asks, "What do you want to do for lunch?"

"I have to go get my mom some food," she says almost robotically.

You stroke her hair, "Do you need some help?" You know she's been adverse to letting you go to her house. You guess that she doesn't want you to see her mom. You've waited outside for her a couple times, but you haven't seen the inside of her house since you spent the night the week before school started.

"Can you drive me?" she asks.

"Of course," you nod.

At your insistence, you wait until it's actually lunch period to leave. You're already skipping gym and questionably getting an 'A' in it, you don't want to be truant as well. As you walk through the flooded hallway, people part for Quinn. You're walking in your usual place a step behind and to the side of her. Someone appears next to you and when you see Brittany you smile at her. She gives you a bright smile back. "Where are you guys going?"

You look up at Quinn who opens the outside door for you and Brittany, "We're going to lunch."

"Oh cool," she says and her smile fades a bit, "Have you guys seen Santana?"

You look at Quinn who shakes her head, "She's not here."

"Oh," Brittany looks crestfallen, but nods, "Okay, I'll see you guys in glee."

"Do you want to come to lunch with us?" Quinn asks her, "We're going to check on Santana afterward."

You don't think that's a particularly good idea and you know Quinn knows it's not. You don't think that going to check on Santana is actually a good idea either. When you get there, who knows if you'll be able to get Quinn back to school or not. Plus if Brittany goes, there will be yell and crying. Typically you appreciate drama like this, but you've had a lot of it lately and you don't want to miss anymore school.

Brittany looks conflicted. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other and bites her lip, her eyes surveying the parking lot. "I…" She slings her backpack off of one shoulder so she can access the flap. She pulls it back and retrieves an envelope, "I can't go today, but can you drop this off at Santana's house?"

Quinn agrees for both of you and Brittany gives you both a forced smile before walking back into the school. She raises her eyebrows at you and you offer her a shrug. You know what Brittany told you yesterday was a lie. You heard that she told Kurt, Blaine, and Mercedes something completely different about why she and Santana aren't together anymore. You, being you, really want to open whatever kind of letter or card that is in Quinn's hand, but you won't. It's not your business and you have more important things to think about.

Once in the car, you pull out of the parking lot. She takes you hand because cars make her nervous. You completely understand it.

She sighs and adds, "We're getting seven million dollars."

"What?" you glance over at her. You're sure that you didn't hear her correctly.

"The company that owned the truck that killed Jenny," she states, evenly, "They're giving us seven million dollars. So we don't sue them or something. I don't know."

You don't know what to say to that. It's a lot of money. A lot of money that her mother is no doubt not going to touch even if she ever gets out of the bed. That means Quinn will control it and that scares you more than anything. You know all too well what happens to troubled adolescents who have unlimited resources. It rarely ends without some kind of jail or rehab.

You swallow hard and pulls to a stop in front of her house. You look over at her and find her studying you. There are a few minutes where you just sit there and look at each other. Even when she's sad, she's beautiful. Her eyes still catch the light and at this angle her eyes look more green than anything. She push her hair behind her ear like you're preparing to kiss her. You're not going to because it would be wrong. Especially now. She's broken and you'd be taking advantage of that because you know she would allow it.

So you do it in your head. In your mind, you lean forward and tentatively let your lips touch hers. It's just a short, soft kiss, but it makes you smile. Both in your mind and in real life.

"What's going on?" she asks you.

You shake your head, "Sorry. I was just…admiring your hair in the sunlight. It's looks lighter."

She turns to the mirror on her side of the car and looks at herself. She nods and fluffs her hair, "You should have seen Coach Sylvester flip her shit. Then she got her creepy idea look on her face and took off. I'm pretty sure everyone else is going to have to dye their hair too." She puts the visor back up and looks past you to the house. "I'll…I'll be right back."

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" you ask, keeping her hand in yours.

She nods. "I'm sure." She gives your hand a quick squeeze before letting go, "I won't be long. I promise."

That's not what you were worried about. You're worried about what's going to happen when she comes back out.

She keeps to her word that she's not going to be long. It's been exactly three minutes when she tosses a bag into the backseat and closes her door. You can see the muscles of her jaw clenching and unclenching as she tries not to cry. Her hand immediately seeks out yours and you meet her halfway, your intertwined hands resting on the armrest between you.

"Are you okay?" you ask quietly.

She nods, not even looking in your direction. It must be because the house is behind you. "Can we just go to Santana's please?"

You nod and put the car into drive. As you drive, you periodically look over at her. Her eyes are dry, but you can tell her heart hurts.

The visit to Santana's house seems to be cut short because she won't open the door. Quinn tries calling her multiple times, but no one ever answers. Your friend looks up at one of the windows and taps her foot.

"Quinn?" you ask. You're wondering what she's thinking.

"I have to get in there," Quinn says. Her voice is shaking.

You take her hand, "I'm sure Santana is just taking a nap or something."

The pink-haired girl shakes her head. Tears build up in her eyes. She quickly blinks them away, but you know that they're going to come back. She clenches her jaw again and tells you, "No. I have to know."

"Quinn I'm sure she's-"

Quinn whirls on you and interrupts you, raising her voice, "I'm going to get in there because I want to make sure she hasn't done anything stupid. It's not fair because I have you and she has no one. Her parents are shit. Who knows where they are. She has no one." She goes back to trying to figure out how to get into the monstrosity of the house.

You wrap your arms around yourself defensively. It's an instinct thing and you mentally scold yourself for doing so. You take a deep breath and ask her, "Why do you think she's done something?"

"Because," she states, walking toward the front door, "If I didn't have you, I would have."

That statement hits you hard. It would be a lie if you said the thought had never crossed your mind. You always wondered if Quinn would have done something drastic and irreparable. That's why you're always with her. You don't want her to do anything crazy. Of course you leave her alone for a few hours one day and her hair comes back pink.

"I'm sorry," you walk up behind Quinn after you regain your motor skills. "I didn't mean that we shouldn't help Santana."

She lets out a sigh and starts turning over the rocks in the flowerbed next to the front door, "I'm sorry I yelled at you. I just…Santana's been one of my best friends for years. I can't lose her too."

You nod. You understand that and start helping her look for some kind of a hollow rock or something that may contain a spare key. You don't want to even think about what might happen to Quinn if something happens to Santana.

Finally you find the key in a potted plant next to the door. You open the door as quickly as you can because Quinn is bouncing next to you. As soon as the door is open Quinn is sprinting inside. You close the door and run after her just to make sure that whatever she finds, she doesn't find it alone.

She's yelling Santana's name as she takes the stairs two at a time. When you reach the top of the stairs, Santana steps out of her bedroom asking, "What the fuck are you-?"

She's cut off when Quinn tackles her in a hug. Without warning or a preamble, Quinn starts sobbing. Santana looks bewildered at you and you take a deep breath. She's okay. You have to admit that you do feel better to know that Santana's okay. Although, she does look slightly inebriated to you.

Santana holds Quinn in the hallway while she cries and you just stand there waiting for it to stop. A few seconds later, Quinn composes herself and pulls away. She shakes her head as she wipes her face, "I'm sorry. I just…you didn't answer your phone or the door. I thought something happened to you."

"Oh," Santana looks at the floor and holds reaches up with her right hand to hold onto her left shoulder, "Um, sorry. Brittany called me like four times so I finally threw my phone at the wall. My phone's broken."

"Why didn't you answer the door?" Quinn asks.

"I thought you were Brittany," she shrugs and looks up at Quinn through her eyelashes. You've never seen Santana like this. She looks so small and apologetic. It may be the t-shirt that's wearing that's hanging off of one of her shoulders or how sunken in her eyes look. She mutters, "I'm sorry."

Quinn takes a calming breath and closes her eyes. When she opens them she looks at you, "I should have listened to you."

"Actually I should have listened to you," you tell her. You know that Quinn's scenario could have just as easily been true. You look to Santana, "Would you like go to lunch with us?"

Santana looks down at her clothes and shakes her head, "I'm not really dressed."

"Put your uniform on," Quinn tells Santana, "You're coming back to school with us."

"But I-" Santana starts.

Quinn cuts her off, "You're coming back to school with us because I'm not going to let you wallow. It's our senior year. We're going to own it."

Santana studies Quinn for a moment before nodding, "I'll be right out." She steps into her room and closes the door.

You're surprised at Quinn as well. She takes your hand as you walk down the stairs together. When you both fall back on the couch in the pristine living room, you mention that she surprised you, forcing Santana to come back to school.

"I'm not going to let her be alone," Quinn states, resting her head on your shoulder. You think you fall in love with her a little more because of her loyalty to her friend.

You also think that this a little bit of Quinn deflecting. She's concentrating on Santana because it's easier than concentrating on herself. When you look at her she's a beautiful disaster. She can't help what happened to her. She can't help that her mom shut down. She can't help that as a result of her sister's death she's orphaned and rich. It's a horrible combination. You can understand why she wouldn't want to think about it.

You can't stop touching her hair and you find yourself growing fond of the new color. You give into temptation just a little and kiss her forehead. The more time goes by, the less you want her to be the one that got away. You want her to be the one that's there.

Santana carefully steps onto the ground floor and takes a deep breath, "Let's go to Breadstix. I'm buying."

Quinn stands up off of the couch and pulls you up with her. You walk out of the house with two broken girls, wondering how this mess is all going to turn out.


	5. You Oughta Know by Alanis Morrissette

You can see Rachel up in the bleachers. She looks really bored. You can see her headphones hiding under her hair. She pretends to cheer when something good happens on the field but you can tell she's mouthing the words. It brings a small smile to your lips. She's so cute.

You lead the next cheer and decide to do something nice for Rachel. She's been following you around, doing your thing. Now you're going to do hers.

It surprised you to find out that she quit ballet for you. It came out while you both were eating dinner with her dads. It's become a regular thing now that you don't mind having some adults in your life. You know her notorious MySpace videos haven't been posted since before school started. She's become a lot quieter. You hope that you haven't changed her. You actually liked who she was. You loved who she was and now who she is. You just hope she didn't change for you or quit her beloved ballet because you needed her.

You don't start a routine when you're supposed to but luckily Santana does it for you. When you find her eyes she gives you an understanding nod. Santana has even joined you for a few of those family dinners. She always looks like a little kid sitting at the table with her eyes on the plate, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

As you dance you wonder. Is this too soon to be doing normal things again? Should you have grieved longer? Of course you're still grieving but should you have stayed out of your extracurriculars longer? Should you still be wearing black? You should still be in bed like your mother? Well technically she's not on bed anymore. She's moved to the couch. You're pretty sure it's because the remote in her bedroom stopped working.

You find Rachel looking at you the next time you're looking at her. She gives you a wide smile and you can't help, but smile back.

"Do you want to come over for dinner?" you ask Santana after the game is over. They lost so there's not going to be a party at Puck's house.

Santana nods, "Yeah. Then we can work on our Spanish project?"

You pick up her bag and yours because they're right next to each other and hand her hers. You sling yours over your shoulder with a smile, "You do know that you know Spanish right?"

She lets out a faint smile and scans the mess of red and white uniforms. You grab her arm and pull her away from the group. Rachel meets you at your car. Well it's your mom's car, but she's not using it and you decided that you liked her BMW convertible better than your used sedan.

"You did so good," Rachel hugs you like she always does when you're away from each other for more than a few minutes.

Santana stands awkwardly at your side so you add to Rachel, "I invited Santana to dinner if that's okay."

"Of course," Rachel smiles at the other Cheerio, "There's always room for you Santana."

"Thanks," Santana kicks at the ground and puts her hands in her letterman jacket pockets, "I'll go home and change and meet you guys there okay?"

You nod. You wish you could be more physically affectionate with her. It's just so awkward. It's easy with Rachel. She usually initiates. You just want to give Santana a hug or something. She looks like she needs one.

When you're in the safety of your car, you tell Rachel this. She smiles at you and takes your hand, threading her fingers through yours. "I'm pretty sure she wouldn't hit you for hugging her at this point, Quinn."

"I know," you sigh and start the car, "But it's always been really awkward between us with stuff like that. Plus you add in the whole, cage match in the hallway at school and making out on her bed…I don't know."

"When she comes over," Rachel says, "I'll give her a hug and then you can if you want."

True to her word, as soon as the front door opened, Rachel gently hugs Santana. Even from behind Rachel you can see that Santana is tense for the first few seconds, but eases into it. You take your turn. She seems to know what you're doing and pulls you to her.

At dinner, Rachel's dad passes you the herb green beans he made with a smile. The conversation is centered at the moment on what Rachel's going to do after graduation. It's not something that you're really comfortable talking about. You don't even want to think about her leaving you, but you couldn't stand it more if she stayed because of you.

"What are you girls planning to do?" her daddy asks with a warm smile.

You look over at Santana and she takes it, "I just want to get out of Lima. My dad wants me to go to med school like he did and my mom wants me to major in business like she did. I don't think I want to do either of those things, but I dunno what else to do."

"You have plenty of time to figure it out honey," Rachel's daddy smiles at her. Then he looks at you Quinn.

You shrug, "I'll probably stay here. You know, take care of my mom."

"I'm sure your mom will be fine in a little while," Rachel's dad puts his hand on your shoulder, "And then you can do whatever you want. What are you going to do then?"

You shrug again and keep your eyes on your plate, "Probably follow Rachel wherever she goes. Buy a house or something." You feel a hand on your knee that gently squeezes it. When you look at Rachel you see her soft appreciative smile. You've never talked about what you were going to do after high school with Rachel, but now you can't imagine your life without her.

Of course this is all hypothetical and assuming that your mom snaps out of whatever trance she's in before you graduate. You highly doubt that'll happen so you'll stay in Lima with Puck and Finn and become a real estate agent.

After dinner you all go up to Rachel's room. Well it's Rachel's and your room. You spend as much time in here as she does. You both sleep in the same bed and she's allowed you to hang some of your clothes in her closet. You live here, that's for sure.

You plug your phone into your charger and fall back on the bed, "So this Spanish project, what's it about?"

"You're supposed to tell your own fairytale in Spanish," Santana tells you looking around the room. She sits down at the foot of the bed and leans back on her arms, "Between one hundred and three hundred words. You can just tell me a story and I'll write it out for you."

"Awesome," you say and watch Rachel dig through her backpack. She's bent over at her waist and her skirt is riding dangerously high. If she just has to grab something at the bottom of the bag you'll….you'll stop looking at her like that. Damn. There's something weird going on with you and it's sorta perverted. You keep staring at Rachel a little too long or something weird and perverted like that.

When you look over at Santana to see if she caught you, but she's laying across the foot of the bed, texting. She snaps her phone closed and looks at the ceiling, "Puck's bringing found a flash by the gas station. He said he's going to drink during glee to make it more fun."

Rachel stands up from her bag and looks at Santana, "In front of Mr. Schuester?"

"I never said Puck was smart," Santana states and sits up. "Can I use your laptop Q?" You nod to her and watch her as she picks it up. She opens it and says, "Okay, tell me a story Miss Fabray."

You take a deep breath, "Why do I have to tell a fairytale?"

"Because it's the assignment," Santana starts typing, "Once upon a time there was a princess named Quinn." She looks at you, "Just ninety more words and you're done."

"What kind of story is that?" you ask her.

"It's the beginning," Santana huffs, "I'll finish it if you want me to."

"No I can do it," you lay back on the bed and look over at Rachel who insists on doing her homework at the desk. "Rach?"

She swivels in her chair to look at you, "Hmm?"

"Can you help me?" you ask, "I'll totally do your math homework for you."

"I appreciate the offer, but I think I can do my own math homework," she smiles and leans on the armrest of her desk chair, "What can I do for you?"

"Quinn can't think of the rest of her story in Spanish even though I already gave her ten percent of it," Santana explains for you, "It goes, Once upon a time there was a princess named Quinn."

"Who had bright pink hair," Rachel adds with a playful smile, "And a magnificent, dazzling smile." She bites her lip and asks Santana, "How many words was that?" You're completely flattered by Rachel's description of you and you're sure it's not going help your perviness factor.

"Ten," Santana states, "We're up to twenty now. I can leave you two alone if you would like to give Mr. Schue some erotica to read. God knows he needs it."

Rachel laughs heartily and your heart flutters with it, "Santana, if we wrote erotica for Mr. Schue it might frightening him so bad, his hair straightens out."

"Oh then please do," Santana says, "I don't know how much more I can take of looking at his white boy fro."

"You sound like Coach Sylvester," you tell Santana.

She shrugs and goes back to the computer. With her fingers poised over the keys she looks back to Rachel who is tapping a pencil to her chin, "Well…How about 'Everyday she walks through the streets of her kingdom, waving to her subjects when one day she meets a peasant girl named…"

Santana interrupts her, "Named Rachel. Quinn became enamored with the peasant girl's voice and brought the girl back with her to the castle. They kicked out Prince Finn and Sir Puckerman and lived happily ever after." Santana mumbles to herself, "Oh shit that's only seventy-four words…Uh, Then one day their entire kingdom was overthrown by a sexy, badass warlord. She allowed them to live in her kingdom as long as they promised to serve her eternally. They considered it an honor and everyone lived happily ever after." She smiles and stretches, "One hundred and fifteen words. I'd say it was an A. Don't you think so Q?"

"Like Mr. Schue is ever going to believe that I wrote that," you can't help, but smile at Santana's story though. It's definitely something she would write.

"Whatever," Santana falls back on the bed, "That's an A for me then. I'll write yours later," She checks her phone, "I gotta go. I'm going to go knock over mailboxes with Puck and Lauren."

"Try not to get arrested," you call after her and watch her wave over her shoulder as she leaves.

You lay on the bed, curled on the side watching Rachel do her homework at the desk. You love the way she looks intensely at the homework, her pen pressed against her lips. When you think she's done, you call, "Rach?"

She turns around in her chair and looks at you with a smile, "Hmm?"

"Are you done?" you ask. You want her to come lay with you, but you don't want to interrupt her homework.

She nods, "I was just getting started on next weeks homework."

You let out a small smile. She's such an overachiever and it used to piss you off. Now you find it adorable. "Can you lay with me for a minute?"

"I thought you'd never ask," she flutters her eyelashes and giggles.

After everything is packed up, in her backpack again, she walks to the bed and carefully lies down next to you. You easily move together and your bodies fit. Your head rests on her shoulder as she slowly strokes your hair.

"What are you doing Saturday night?" you ask her.

You can feel her take a deep breath, "I suppose whatever you're doing on Saturday night."

"So you're going to see the Lima Revival Theatre's production of Death of a Salesman?" you ask her.

She moves so that she's on her side, looking down at you, "What?"

"We're going to see a play," you tell her with a smile.

A slow grin takes over her face, "Really?"

"Yeah."

Suddenly you've switched places with her and she's on top of you, hugging you like her life depends on it. You laugh because you plan on doing so much more for her and shelling out twenty bucks so that she gets to watch a mediocre Lima play doesn't seem like that big of a deal.

You're glad that you can repay her back not even a fraction of what she's done for you. You're basically moved in with her and she hasn't complained once. She doesn't shy away from you when you need her the most. When you're crying in her darkened room or when you lose it at school. She's your rock.

"Quinn," Mr. Schue calls you as you're walking out of the glee room to the auditorium the next day. It's an auditorium practice day. You went to the choir room to work out a game plan and now you're moving (with Rachel) to the auditorium.

Rachel pauses at the doorway to wait for you. You look at her and give her a nod saying that you're okay with her being so far away (a whole whopping fifteen feet). She gives you a small smile.

"Do you think you can take the lead on this one?" he asks you.

"Me?" you stutter out.

He nods, "This song is perfect for your range."

You take the sheet music he offers you, "Why not give it to Rachel? Everything is in her range."

"Just give it a shot. If you don't like it, then we'll give it to her, okay?" he puts a hand on your shoulder.

You nod and walk to where Rachel is waiting for you.

"He wants me to lead today," you tell her on the way to the dressing room.

She smiles at you, "Good. I miss your singing."

"Really?"

"Always."

"You're not mad that I got a solo and you didn't?"

"You should know by now Quinn that I'll never begrudge you anything."

You smile at her vocabulary and put your arm around her shoulders.  
The song is one that you could sing in your sleep. Coach Sylvester blasts Madonna at you occasionally, telling you all that you'll never be as successful at her. It's a soft song and for the most part you'll be standing at the mic in the middle of the stage while everyone else pairs up and dances around you. The music starts and you croon out the first few lines of "Crazy for You".

As you turn you see Finn and Rachel dancing together. He's smiling at her with his stupid goofy smile. You want to punch him in the face. Why did that get paired together anyway? Rachel should be paired with Kurt. They're like the same height or close. Bigfoot and your delicate Rachel should not even be touching.

You feel Artie's hand on yours and know you're supposed to twirl into him but you know that Rachel has to do the same with Finn. You stutter-step because you weren't paying attention and tumble into Artie's wheelchair. You land on his lap and the music stops.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

You nod and fix your hair. "I'm fine I just... Got distracted."

"By what?" Artie asks.

You look around trying to find something to blame it on and find the perfect excuse, "Santana's gone."

Artie looks around, "So is Puck."

"Santana ran off and I sent Puck after her," Lauren shrugs.

Brittany starts to walk out past you but you grab her arm, "Don't you think you've done enough?" You can feel the eyes of the entire glee club on you. Brittany looks hurt at your words but you've seen the whole of the devastation she left behind.

"Let's take a break guys," Mr. Schue said with an exasperated sigh.

Rachel walks out the door in front of you and you move as one down the hallway. You didn't even have to tell her where you were going. She just knew. "You know we're never even going to get past sectionals if no one can stay at practice."

You understand where she's coming from and you catch a glimpse of the old Rachel shining through. "I know. We just have to... I don't know desensitize Santana to Brittany. Make it so she's not affected."

"Fat chance," Rachel snorts, "How would you feel if the love of your life stomped on your heart and left you with no reason why? How would it feel if she was your beat friend as well?"

You sense something more to Rachel's words but you're not going to bring it up now.

"And having to watch her with the person she left you for?"

Now Rachel just sounds bitter so you ask, "Are you okay?"

She shakes out her hair and nods, "I'm fine."

You don't believe it and call her out on it.

She just sighs, "Can we just find Santana so we can finish rehearsing?"

"I'm here," you hear from the doorway of the bathroom. Puck walks out behind her. You're not really surprised. Both of them have a tendency to ignore signs and go wherever they want.

"I'm sorry," Santana crosses her arms and walks with you all back to the auditorium. "I thought I could sneak out for like five minutes and no one would notice. But you guys, I don't think I can be in glee anymore."

Rachel stops dead and Puck runs into the back of her. You turn to Santana. "What?" Rachel asks, "You can't quit the glee club. We have six weeks until sectionals and we need your voice."

"Do you have any idea what I'm going through?" Santana asks back.

"I know exactly what you're going through," Rachel drilling Santana with her intense gaze, "but singing helps. Glee club helps."

You wonder what Rachel means. How does she know what Santana is feeling? She has Finn. Maybe she wants Puck or something. Or she liked Sam? You're kinda confused.

"I know you're in pain. Terrible excruciating pain but channel it. Sing. Sing hard. Let it out Santana. I'll get you a microphone and Quinn, Noah and I will back you up."

You know Santana is trying to think of a way to get back at Rachel but they just stare at each other for a long time. Finally Santana nods. "Okay fine. I'll try things your way. But when I still feel like shit afterward, I'm quitting."

"Deal," Rachel nods, "You tell me what song you want to sing."

Santana immediately tells her a song. You don't know how happy Mr. Schue is going to be but he's all for expression and stuff plus Rachel's right you need Santana, not only as your twelfth member but you need her voice.

Rachel sends you to print off the sheet music and she takes Puck to set everything up. As you're passing out the music to the band and Puck's setting up the microphones, Rachel calls out to Artie, "Dim the house lights and give me a blue wash. Spotlight number fifteen."

After the lights are up, she looks out at the glee club sitting in the audience. They all look confused.

"Glee club is about expression and belonging. One of our own doesn't feel like she belongs anymore and she wants to quit. I think you'll all agree that we need Santana for competition but right now she needs us. If she decides to quit or not, she needs us and we're a family. We're going to be there for her."

There were murmurs of agreement and you could see Brittany shifting uncomfortably in the dark of the theatre. She was situated between Mercedes and Kurt and you wonder why she isn't sitting with Artie.

You don't have time to dwell on it because Santana walks to the middle of the stage with her head down. You walk with Rachel to the two microphones set off to the side. You're both just going to echo and oooh as you see fit in the song. Your hand seeks out hers and you give her a sideways glance in which she gives you a smile.

The music starts and Santana doesn't look anywhere but the ground in front of her until she starts singing. She's looking past the audience as she quietly lets out of the first verse of Alanis Morissette's "You Oughta Know."

As she gets into the next verse her voice gets louder and more confident. She doesn't shy away from the f-bomb in the song and easily changes the pronouns to the feminine. Rachel was right, you can see the pain ebbing away from Santana as she sings.

You know that she can't see the club because she's in the spotlight, but you can. Kurt has his arm around Brittany who has tears streaming down her face. You really wish you knew what happened and not the bullshit stories Brittany has been spreading. Santana deserves to know if only to have some kind of closure.

When the song is over, the Santana you used to know is back. You know it's a temporary front, but it's better than she's been in a long time. She drops the microphone onto the stage and struts off of the stage as the club erupts.

The lights come up and Mr. Schue walks onto the stage with his arms crossed. He doesn't look too happy. He rubs his chin and motions for Santana to come back out onto the stage. She walks over to you and Rachel, standing between you. Rachel slips her arms around Santana's waist with a hopeful smile. Santana smiles back at her and puts her arm around your shoulders.

"There seems to be a lot of fighting within the glee club," he says putting his hands on his hips, "And I don't like it." The mood suddenly dies. All the smiles in the crowd are gone as well as the ones on the stage. "We need to pick out a set list for sectionals as well as get together as a group so we're going to have a lock-in, in this auditorium Friday night. We'll sing songs, work on out set list and hopefully grow back together."

"Fuck my life," Santana mutters next to you. She raises her hand, "What about those of us who have actual plans?"

"It's mandatory," he states, "If you want to compete at sectionals you will come."

"Please Q," Santana says out loud, "Just shoot me."

"Santana," Mr. Schue warns.

You're not really big on this idea either. You've still been having nightmares and wake up in the middle of the night crying. At least Rachel will be there. Maybe you can nab one of the corners of the stage to sleep in.

Mr. Schue smiles, "C'mon guys. It'll be fun. Bring your instruments and your favorite CDs."

When he dismisses everyone, you, Rachel and Santana go to your car and head to the camping story. None of you have any kind of sleeping bag or anything of the sort.

"We could totally set up this tent on the stage," Santana offers, pointing to one of the mini-display tents. "It's got two rooms. One for you guys and one for me. That way we could lock the zipper shut and no one would mess with us."

You like that idea. You also like the idea of being somewhere semi-alone with Rachel where no one can see you. Santana taps out a text on her phone as she walks behind you. You loop your arm around Rachel's shoulders and she smiles at you. "Would you like to get traditional sleeping bags or an air mattress?"

You smile at her, "What do you think?"

You leave the camping store with a two room tent, two air mattresses, and some lanterns to add to the realism of your fake camping trip.

"I'm bringing my laptop," Santana tells you as you put the tent and mattresses in the trunk of your car, "You guys can bring DVDs to watch or whatever."

"I can't help, but think that this is the opposite of what Mr. Schue wanted us to do," Rachel adds to you and Santana as she gets in the passenger's seat.

"Who cares?" Santana asks, "It's stupid. We're fine as a group. We don't have to like each other to perform well."

You let out a sigh. You know that they're both right. The whole tent with the lock on it, defeats the purpose of bonding with the other glee club members, but you feel like since this is against your will you have the right to rebel a little. You're going to socialize for a while before you lock yourself in the tent. The tent is just a security measure. For you and your reputation. If someone saw you crying in the middle of the night, you wouldn't just be the sad girl whose sister died. You'd be the sad weepy girl whose sister died.


	6. Pretend I Don't Exist by Melody Gardot

Mr. Schue didn't look too happy when you, Quinn, and Santana carried in your things for the lock-in. You had a complete speech prepared on why it was important, as females, to be cautious in these types of situations where you were locked in a large room full of teenage boys. You also had another one as to why you needed an air mattress for proper spinal alignment. You only got to use the tent speech. He looked rather disinterested in your explanation anyway.

Of course you understood that this night did have its purpose. You came prepared with a binder full of song and a list of costume, lighting, and arrangement ideas. You almost had to drag Quinn and Santana here. You swear that having both of them together is like caring for two very tall and very strong toddlers. Their cumulative cunning doesn't help you either. They almost got you to drive them to the mall instead of school without you even realizing it.

Santana has turned out to be a good friend. She helps you with your Spanish homework and you help her with her History. She complains about being a third wheel a lot when Quinn insists that she hang out with you two, but you always end up feeling like the third wheel. Quinn and Santana have an established witty repartee. Although some of their barbs actually sting each other, they know that they're friends no matter what. Fist fighting, mall shopping, making out friends. Of course the making out thing was once, but you're not one to let things go so easily.

After a frustrating four minutes where Quinn and Santana argued about how to set up the tent, you ask Finn and Puck if they'll do it for you. You're playing the girl card, although having been in the Girl Scouts all through elementary school, you know how to set up a tent. You just can't manage to get a word in between the two girls.

Once everything is set up to your liking, yours and Quinn's bed being made as well as clothes hung on a convenient hook hanging from the side of the tent, you join some of the less fortunate gleeks who are sitting around in the circle on the other side of the stage, on their mere sleeping bags.

"Where's Mr. Schue?" Finn asks, rolling out an old sleeping bag that looks like it was his father's Army issue.

"He went to go get the pizza," Kurt answers. He's already in his blue silk pajamas with white piping.

Drat. You forgot about that pizza. It looks like you'll be eating the granola bar in your purse for dinner. Tina pats her sleeping back while looking at you, which you take as an indicator to sit down next to her. She smiles at you before turning back to the conversation at hand.

You quietly sit and listen to the conversation that has nothing to do with glee club. There's a smile on your face and your ears at attentive, but you're thinking about the girl that's sitting across the circle from you next on Mercedes's rather comfortable looking sleeping bag with a built in air mattress. As you're looking at her, she looks back at you and gives you a smile that makes your stomach flutter.

You would never dream of taking advantage of Quinn in the state that she's in, but it's getting harder and harder to sleep tangled in her without wanting to. Every night you make sure that she falls asleep before you do so that you know she's going to be okay for a little while and while you watch her, memorizing her breath-taking features, you fall a little bit more for her each time.

Finally when Mr. Schue shows up you get to talk about songs. You hand everyone a four-page packet complete with diagrams, vocal ranges, and the past Nationals winning songs. You hear the groans, but they never stopped you before, why would they stop you now? You seem to have everyone's attention, most notably, both Quinn and Santana's. Santana's usually halfway through filing her nails at this point and Quinn is staring off into space. When she did that before you'd assume it was a deep, emotional and thought provoking monologue. Usually in your head her monologues were about you. How your hair is extra bouncy today or how she was completely enamored by the song you did the week prior.

However, when she does that now (luckily now she only zones out when someone besides you is speaking) you know she's probably thinking about her mom who you haven't seen since the funeral, but you can only assume that she's a horrible mess of a broken woman. Or her sister, taken too soon from this Earth by a careless man hopped up on speed and veering into her lane. Maybe she's thinking about homework now. She's starting to do more of her own which you find a good sign. Santana still does her Spanish homework for her and you still read and summarize all of the books for your English class, but she's doing the rest by herself. Maybe she's getting back to normal.

After your speech, Mr. Schue says that you gave everyone a lot to think about. You know that he means that you talked too much but you don't care. For the first time in a long time, the jeers have stopped. No one messes with you anymore. You have two (although toddler-like at times) ladies who walk around school with you scaring people into not making fun of you. You don't know if it's a conscious effort or if it's just something that happens because you hang out with them, but you're grateful for it nonetheless. In return you've become quieter. You try not to do the things that used to annoy them, although now when you do it the worst reaction you get is Santana rolling her eyes.

You survey the group and to your surprise they're actually looking at the sheets you gave them. Kurt leans over to Quinn and Mercedes and points a few things out. Quinn and Mercedes both nod and confer with each other. Santana is talking to Mike with her hands apparently about some kind of dance move. He nods and stands up, doing a kind of spin. She smiles and nods.

Then you see Brittany looking at them like a kicked puppy. She's sitting by Finn, Puck (who has his guitar in his lap) and Lauren. There's no doubt in your mind that Brittany could have easily did what Mike just did and you're sure that in the past Santana has suggested dance moves to her before, but in the current arrangement, Mike is now Santana's go to dancer. And Brittany looks wounded by it.

As you're studying Brittany you can see Finn looking at you. You move your eyes to him and give him a smile. He's been really amicable about the whole break thing. You're still on the fence about breaking up with him completely though. Quinn is your number one priority now and although you've told him that, he still gets disappointed when he texts you to hang out and you say no. Maybe breaking up is for the best. He's sweet and you do like him, but…there's Quinn. There's always been Quinn, but she's never needed you before. Especially not like this. Of course when she gets to be emotionally stable again and less needy, where will you be? Will you go back to the way things were? Will you still be friends? Will you be as close as you are now? It's all still up in the air, but you've decided that right now, she needs you and that's all that matters.

"Okay, guys," Mr. Schue stands up, "It's time to get out your assignments."

"Which was?" Puck asks.

"Weren't you paying attention?" you turn around and ask him. He just smiles coyly at you. You roll your eyes playfully and turn back to Mr. Schue. You raise your hand and when Mr. Schue calls on you, you explain, "For those of you not listening yesterday, Mr. Schue wanted us all to pick out a song that expresses how we're feeling right now in an effort to try to get a better understanding of why we aren't working well together."

"Would you like to go first?" he asks.

You think about it momentarily, "If no one else would like to, I will." When no one says anything, Mr. Schue sets up the microphone while everyone grabs their pizza and moves down into the audience.

The soft piano fills the room and a content smile plays on your lips. You love this song and you love what this song is about. You also love who you're singing it to, although she doesn't know it's for her.

_How was I supposed to know that this was always_

_Only just a little a game to you?_

_All the time I felt you gave your heart_

_I thought that I would do the same for you_

_Tell the truth, I think I should have_

_Seen it coming from a mile away_

_When the words you say are_

_Baby, I'm a fool who thinks_

_It's cool to fall in love_

You're sure that no one has a clue who you're singing to and that's okay with you for now. You just want everyone to enjoy the soothing song. You let your fingertips graze the microphone as you close your eyes to sing.

_If I gave a thought to fascination_

_I would know it wasn't right to care_

_Logic doesn't seem to mind that_

_I am fascinated by your love affair_

_Still my heart would benefit from_

_A little tenderness from time to time but never mind_

_'Cause, baby, I'm a fool_

_Who thinks it's cool to fall in love_

_Baby, I should hold on just a moment_

_And be sure it's not for vanity_

_Look me in the eye and tell me_

_Love is never based upon insanity_

_Even when my heart is beating_

_Hurry up the moment's fleeting_

_Kiss me now, don't ask me how_

You're not naïve. You know that you wish that after that line Quinn hopped up on the stage and swept you off of your feet to follow the lyrical direction and kiss you now. You pause a little longer than necessary just in case she's having trouble getting up on the stage. When she doesn't, you knew it was stupid to hope for that and lick your lips to finish off the song.

_'Cause baby, I'm a fool_

_Who things it's cool to fall_

_Baby, I'm a fool who thinks it's cool to fall_

_And I would never tell if you be came a fool and fell in love_

The whole club claps for you and you take a small bow. You gracefully step off of the stage and take your seat next to Quinn. Santana is sitting on the other side of her. Quinn goes as far as to put her arm around your shoulders. She whispers to you about that being the reason that you and Santana had been listening to Melody Gardot all week.

You smile and nod before your eyes flicker to Santana who has just a hint of a smirk on her face. Her song is of the same artist, but has a completely different meaning. You weren't supposed to tell each other, but you couldn't help, but offer your consultation for Santana's song. Her initial list was a grouping of songs that would make a felon blush. You got her to tone it down and really dig into her soulful voice. You can see her pain and you sympathize with her. The least you can do is help her through what you're going through as well. Of course you can only imagine the pain of actually having and then losing the person you love. For the first time since you've known her, you feel a connection to Santana. You finally feel like you're friends.

"Alright guys," Mr. Schue walks up onto the stage. "Any more volunteers?" When no one raised their hands he says, "Alright well-"

"You know what Mr. Schue?" Santana stands up, "I'm ready." She walks up to the microphone and takes a deep breath. You tried to talk her out of doing this a capella, but it's difficult to dissuade Santana when she makes up her mind.

_I've waited before  
At the foot of your door  
Like a lost little doll  
I waited for love to call  
But got not at all_

You take back what you said about her not doing a capella. It adds to the drama of the song. As you look around, everyone is on the edge of their seats they're eyes stuck on Santana who is pouring her heart out like you've never heard before.

_So I should stay  
While you wander away  
From the warmth of my lips  
Just try to forget my kiss  
Pretend I don't exist_

_I don't think you could give_   
_Any good reason why_   
_I should stay in your arms_   
_So I think you should try to forget_   
_How good it felt_   
_Try not to reminisce_   
_Try to forget my kiss_   
_Pretend I don't exist_

_I don't think you could give_   
_Any good reason why_   
_I should stay in your arms_   
_So I think you should try to forget_   
_How good it felt_   
_Try not to reminisce_   
_Try to forget my kiss_   
_Pretend I don't exist_

You and Quinn jump to your feet when she's done with the song. There are tears in Santana's eyes that shimmer in the spotlight. You look down at your fellow gleeks and the girls, as well as Kurt are in various stages of tears. Except Brittany. She's sitting in her seat just staring at Santana. You're sure if your friend could see the blonde staring at her, she's be out of the auditorium faster than you could stop her.

Mr. Schue walks out onto the stage and gives an approving smile to Santana, "Alright who's-"

Brittany shoots out of her chair, "I want to go next."

Santana freezes on the stage and you feel Quinn flinch next to you in a move to go get Santana, but instead Santana takes a deep breath, rips her eyes away from Brittany and walks down the stairs on the opposite side that Brittany is ascending.

The gentle taps of the beginning of rain can be heard throughout the theatre as Brittany gets situated. She stands behind the microphone and rests her hands on top of it.

_If you're standing with your suitcase  
But you can't step on the train  
Everything's the way that you left it I still haven't slept yet  
And if you're covering your face now  
But you just can't hide the pain  
Still setting two plates on the counter but eating without ya_

_If the truth is you're a liar_   
_When you say that you're okay_   
_I'm sleeping on your side of the bed going out of my head now_

_And if you're out there trying to move on_   
_But something pulls you back again_   
_I'm sitting here trying to persuade you like you're in the same room_

_I'll leave the door on the latch_   
_If you ever come back, if you ever come back_   
_There'll be a light in the hall and a key under the mat_   
_If you ever come back_   
_There'll be a smile on my face and the kettle on_   
_And it will be just like you were never gone_   
_There'll be a light in the hall and a key under the mat_   
_If you ever come back, if you ever come back now_   
_Oh if you ever come back, if you ever come back_

_Now they say I'm wasting my time_   
_Cause you're never coming home_   
_But they used to say the world was flat but how wrong was that now_   
_And by leaving my door open_   
_I'm risking everything I own_   
_There's nothing I can lose in the break in that you haven't taken_

_If it's the fighting you remember or the little things you miss  
I know you're out there somewhere, so just remember this  
If it's the fighting you remember or the little things you miss  
Oh just remember this, oh just remember this_

Mike and Tina are poking Artie playfully. He's smiling like he just won a million dollars. It hits your hard. That song was for Artie.

You and Quinn both look at Santana who is just staring at Brittany. Her jaw is clenched and her fists are balled. She must have figured it out before you two did. She's trying to contain all of the emotions inside of her, which she's never been good at. Quinn reaches over and puts her hand on Santana's arm, then takes your hand. After a moment Santana's body shrinks back into her seat. Brittany is back in her seat between Tina and Mercedes, her eyes staying on her knees.

Quinn looks at you with worry in her eyes. She widens her eyes and jerks her head at Santana. You have to think quickly and you do. You stand up and call "Intermission!" before pulling the two Cheerios out the door and into the hallway where the only bathroom you're allowed to use is located.

Once inside, you look at the other two girls. Santana is putting on a brave face and looking like she doesn't care what happens as she fiddles with her eyelashes in the mirror. Quinn crosses her arms, "S?"

"Give me a second," Santana says, continuing to look at herself in the mirror.

The door starts to open, hitting you in the heels because you're standing in front of it. You turn and see someone that you sort of expected to come after you, but didn't really want her to come.

"It's not a good time," you whisper to Brittany.

The blonde looks past you and luckily can only see Quinn. "Please," Brittany pleads, "I need to talk to her."

You step out the door and close it behind you, "Brittany, I don't know what happened, but it's killing Santana to just be here. Then you go singing songs to your ex-boyfriend in front of everyone."

"What?" Brittany blinks, "I didn't sing a song to my ex-boyfriend. It was for my ex-girlfriend. Santana."

You shake your head, "Are you serious?"

Brittany nods like you're the blonde one now.

"If you want her back why did you break up with her in the first place?" you demand. Your friend is in the bathroom, pretending to be aloof because of this girl right here.

After a minute of stuttering around for something to say she says, "Just please let me talk to her. I need to."

You put your hands on Brittany's forearms and speak quietly so maybe she'll pay attention better. "Not right now. Tomorrow after the lock-in is over, come over to my house at five o'clock. Okay? We'll all sit down and talk this out." You really do think it's for the best. Brittany gets to say what she needs to say and they can either get back together or Santana can have her much needed closure.

The door opens behind you and for a moment you panic before you see Quinn standing there, looking at her phone. She looks up at you both and drops her phone to her side. After a beat she says, "C'mon B. Come with me." She doesn't wait for an answer. She just hooks her arm through Brittany's and drags her off.

A look over her shoulder tells you to go in and check on Santana, which you would have done even without her urging. When you get inside, Santana is leaning back on the sink staring at the ground. The second she sees you she goes off, "I just don't understand why she has to flaunt her stupid boyfriend all over the place. I kinda hated him before she even started looking at him and now I want to roll him down some fucking stairs. I mean damn it! Why do I even care so much? I think that-"

You decide to stop her there before she gets mad and punches something, potentially breaking her hand/wrist. "The song was for you."

She stops her pacing and looks at you, "Come again?"

"The song was for you. I just talked to her," you state, "She's going to leave you alone for the rest of the lock-in, but at five o'clock tomorrow, she's coming over to my house. You're going to be there too and we are all going to sit down and talk."

You can see her face harden and morph into a look that you're accustomed to. Usually before a slushy to the face or a horribly mean nickname is spouted. She starts pacing and ranting again. "How could you do that to me? I don't want to see her or talk to her. I don't want anything to do with her ever again. Her and her stupid boyfr-"

Exasperated you find that the only way to deal with Santana is physically. You grab her shoulders and force her to look at you, "You need this. You need closure. You need to know why so you can move on with your life."

Tears cloud her eyes and she bites her lip, "I don't want to move on."

You can feel the horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach that you get when you remember that Quinn isn't yours and probably never will be because you can see that same cluster of emotion in Santana's eyes. You feel selfish for the brief moments you see yourself in Santana's eyes. Now that you're sharing it with someone it's easier to handle, but it has a larger chance of being accessed. You pull Santana into your arms and tell her that it'll be all right. That things will work out for the best, even if you don't believe so.

It's another ten minutes before you finally get back to the auditorium. Apparently they didn't decide to wait because Mike is up on stage dancing to another acoustic indie song. You find Quinn back in her old spot and Brittany a few rows down and ten chairs over back in her spot. You pull Santana down next to you and find Quinn's hand immediately laced with yours.

She gives you a smile before she reaches down on the ground and picks up a white bag. You can smell the contents before you get a chance to look it them. "Where did you get this?" you whisper.

Quinn smirks, "They deliver. That's where I went from the bathroom."

You throw your arms around her neck and hug her tight. She giggles in your ear as her hands rest on your sides before moving to your back. Then you pull away because you're starving. You extract the very vegan Asian food from the bag and break apart your chopsticks. As you eat, she rests her head on your shoulder watching the rest of the performances. For a brief moment, in all that swarming chaos, everything was right with the world.

You offer some of your food to both girls sitting next to you. Santana politely declines. You smiles because mere days ago her reply would have contained insults and many reasons why she wouldn't share anything with you. Quinn takes a few bites that you give her and then tells you to eat it.

Although none of the songs are really sectionals material, you think it was nice to watch everyone perform. Puck showed his sweet side and sang a song to his lady. Lauren returned the favor. Artie sang around wanting two girls. You're pretty sure the jealous look on Mike's face tells you who he was singing about.

After the singing, Mr. Schue says that he's going to go work in the choir room where he'll also be sleeping. He basically begs for no fornication or fighting and tells you all that he'll be back in to check on you later.

"What do you want to do?" you turn to Quinn. She just shrugs so you turn to Santana who also shrugs. You think for a moment before standing up and making your way to the larger group of glee club members. "Artie?"

He looks up at you expectantly.

"Can you set up the projector in the tech booth? I'll put the scrim down and we can watch a movie," you offer.

He gives you a huge smile, "Great idea."

You hop up onto the stage and press the button that brings the see through white material down in the middle of the stage. Once it's all the way down, you walk around it and hop off of the stage. "Rachel?" Artie calls, "Do you have like a DVD player or something? The one that was in here is gone."

"Santana," you walk over to your two friends, "May we use your laptop to watch a movie?"

"Sure," she stands up and the three of you get onto the stage, walk around the scrim and go to the tent in the far back corner. Santana retrieves her laptop and a handful of DVDs before making her way to the tech booth with you and Quinn.

Artie easily hooks everything up and Santana puts in a movie. Artie is about to roll out when he sees the stack of DVD. He picks one up and looks it over, "Oh. I didn't think this was an actual movie." He looks at Santana, "I kinda thought Brittany made it up."

You look at Santana to find her saddened as she accepts the DVD that Artie is handing to her. She's staring at the cover for it until Artie rolls out of the room.

Santana sets the DVD down on the table next to her laptop and you can't help, but wonder what it is. When you read the cover, you find it hard to believe that it's an actual movie as well. "Santa Clause Conquers the Martians" doesn't exactly sound like it has a great plot.

"It's Brittany's favorite bad movie," Santana sighs and sets the other movies on top of that one, "I don't know why I grabbed it."

You look at Quinn and know she wants to hug Santana, but doesn't really know how so you do it for her. Santana leans into you and holds you around the waist. "We'll get it all sorted out tomorrow. I promise."

"What's tomorrow?" Quinn asks, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"Brittany's coming over and we're all going to talk," you explain. You smile at Santana and brush the bangs out of Santana's face, "Because I miss Santana calling me Streisand."

She chuckles and sniffles at the same time. Quinn rubs her back and offers her a small smile. You like the interaction between the two. Finally you all sit down in the very back of the theatre to watch the movie. Puck and Lauren move to sit directly in front of you three and Finn follows. Freshman year and the beginning of sophomore year, none of these people would have talked to you. Now you consider them all to be your dear friends along with the misfit group sitting farther down the rows.

After the movie it's pretty late so Santana grabs her laptop and you all get into the tent. Finn walks you there and wishes you goodnight. You wish him one back and follow Quinn into the tent.

You get changed and situated on the bed in your room of the tent. Quinn curls into you like she always does and your legs tangle in each other. "Who did you sing that song about? Finn?"

You furrow your eyebrows, "Me?"

"Is there anyone else in the room of this tent?" she chuckles over the gently tap, tap, tap of the increasing rain outside.

You never really thought that anyone would ask you who you sang about or to. "I um," thank god you're so quick on your feet, "You know that lyric 'Baby, I'm a fool who thinks it's cool to fall in love'?" She nods against your shoulder and you continue, "When have I not wanted to be in love?"

She chuckles as she starts stroking your side under her fingertips. "Ever since we were little." As she continues your shirt rides up until she's stroking bare skin. You can't help, but squirm. She moves to accommodate you and her hand slips under you're shirt. You're pretty sure she's asleep at this point, but you don't think with her hand pressed against the small of your back that you're going to get much sleep.

Compromising positions such has this have become commonplace for you. You just try to subtly move until her hand or sometimes leg is in a more innocent place before allowing yourself to sleep. After about two or three minutes, you wriggle so that you can move your shirt down without disturbing her. You watch her for another few minutes, her breaths even and her features abnormally peaceful. You find her absolutely stunning all the time, but when she's sleeping there's something magical about her. Finally, you're about to allow yourself to fall asleep, holding Quinn protectively in your arms when you hear a whisper.

"You're full of shit."

Because of the whisper you're not sure who it was or where it came from. "What?"

"I said you're full of shit," comes louder through the tarp wall between the two rooms of the tent. Santana continues, "I know who you sang that song to."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you whisper back although you're sure she knows. You should have known. Anyone that was hanging out with you and Quinn that much and had half a brain would know. Again drat.

"Whatever," Santana huffs, "Be in denial, but you don't get to preach to me anymore about being honest with myself if you're not even honest with yourself."

"It's not the time Santana," you give in, "I don't know if it ever will be, but I assure you there is no denial."

You can feel her smirk coming through the plastic and you roll your eyes. In the place of the teasing you expect she simply says, "Goodnight."

You echo and lay awake for a few moments wondering if she's going to add something else. When she doesn't five minutes later, you kiss Quinn's forehead and go to sleep.

In the middle of the night, you're awaken by movement on the air mattress. When you blink your eyes into focus, you see Quinn putting on a jacket. She slips her shoes on and kneels down to your purse where your car keys are.

"Where are you going?" you ask her.

She jumps at your voice and slowly turns around. You can see the tear streaks down her face and you could kick yourself for not waking up sooner. She wipes her eyes with her sleeve, "I have to go check on my mom. I-I had a…dream…" She trails off because you know what she's saying, "I didn't mean to wake you."

You move off of the bed and slip your own shoes on. You pull a sweater on over your tank top and decide that your sleeping shorts will do. You tiptoe down the hallway and past the open door of the choir room where Mr. Schue is sound asleep on a cot.

It takes you a while to find an open door to the outside, but when you do you find that the rain has not only not let up, it's started coming down in sheets. Quinn looks over at you and quietly says, "I'm sorry."

You give her a reassuring smile. You'd do anything for her and running to the car in the pouring rain isn't even close to as far you'd go for her. You take her hand and you both take off running. You unlock the passenger door first before sprinting to your side of the car. She's already opened it from the inside, but that doesn't make you any less drenched.

You don't hesitate to put the key in the ignition. When you think what would happen if Mr. Schue found out, it's only a small concern. You're major concern is shivering in the passenger's seat. You crank up the heater and pull out of the parking lot.

Her freezing hand finds yours like they're naturally drawn together. You like to think that they are because holding her hand never feels unnatural. It doesn't take more than five minutes to navigate the empty streets and you pull to a stop in front of her house.

She takes a moment to just look at her house in the streetlight and pounding rain. Then she opens her door and starts running. You, as always, take off after her. She unlocks the door and pulls you inside. You shiver as you look around. It's not from the rain this time. It's from the lack of life in the house. All the lights are off and you can only hear the dull, muted sound of a television somewhere else, deep in the house.

"Can you go to my room and get my umbrella?" Quinn asks you.

You nod and start to make your way up the stairs. You pause to watch her pause in front of the hallway that lead to the master bedroom. When she finally steps into it, you start moving again. You walk up the stairs and straight to Quinn's room, not pausing next to the room that used to belong to Jenny. In the dark the house is eerie and you frighten yourself thinking of all the things that could be lurking in the shadows.

You flip on the light in Quinn's room and find that it looks like Quinn doesn't live here any more. Pretty much because she doesn't. She lives with you now. Her closet is almost empty. Her computer is gone. Her favorite blanket is now in the tent inside the McKinley auditorium. You find her umbrella in the bare closet. On your way out, you stop next to a box of old pictures. You immediately pick out your face under a few other pictures. It's when you were younger, right before freshman year. You're at the park together, watching fireworks going off for something. You don't remember what. You're both leaning into each other, smiling like there's nothing wrong with anything. You slip the picture into your pocket and walk out of the room, flipping the light off.

When you get downstairs, you find yourself alone and you don't like it. You get scared so you start walking toward the master bedroom. You feel like you shouldn't, but your fear outweighs your hesitance.

Of course as you walk you run right into Quinn who is walking out of the bedroom. She looks down at you with questioning in her eyes. You mumble out, "I got scared."

One corner of her lips curls slightly and you know you're not in trouble. She dips down and hugs you. You revel in it until you peek through the doorway. You can see a skeleton of Judy Fabray on the bed covered in a blanket. Her hollow eyes are staring into the brightening and dimming light of the TV. You swallow hard because now know what Quinn sees every time she comes here. Her shell of a mother.

When Quinn pulls away, you start moving, escorting her out of the house. You take a deep breath once you get out of the house and you feel a lot better, calmer even. Quinn's fingers slip between your own and you open the umbrella.

In the car, Quinn looks out the window at her house. The home of her stagnant mother, the place her sister grew up. She subtly shakes her head and bows her head.

"Are you okay?" you ask.

She just shrugs. Her body tilts toward you and you wrap your arms around her. Her voice is hoarse with the beginnings of tears, "What would I do without you?"

You pull away and give her a gentle smile, "Luckily, you'll never have to know."

She returns the smile and closes her eyes when you run your fingers the length of her hair. She takes a deep breath, "Back to school?"

You nod. "Back to school."

* * *

Songs are:

"Baby I'm A Fool" and "Pretend I Don't Exist" by Melody Gardot

"If You Ever Come Back" by The Script


	7. Lucy Takes the Dare by The Royal Chains

When you wake up, the familiar feel of Rachel surrounding you calms you. Then when you open your eyes it takes you a moment to remember where you are. You're in a tent on the stage in the McKinley High auditorium. Still in Lima. Still in Ohio. Stupid.

You move your head so that it's on Rachel's chest. The sound of her heart beating always makes you feel better. Not that you're feeling particularly bad right now, you just…It's nice.

Above the calming beats of Rachel's heart, you hear some people milling around. You're surprised that Rachel isn't up yet. She's usually already done working out and showering by the time you wake up. It must have been the late night you both had last night. You still feel bad that you drug her out in the middle of the night through the pouring rain just because you had a nightmare. You owe her so much and taking her to the Lima Revival Theatre isn't going to make anything even. You have to do something so much bigger.

Then it hits you. You let out a smile and a content sigh. It won't make up for everything she's done for you, but it may help repay her dads for letting you stay with them, feeding you and the possible corruption of their daughter. She has been to more parties with you since school started than she has in the rest of her life.

You can hear Santana start moving around in her room of the tent. You decide to start moving. You probably have a lot of work to do making yourself look presentable after running around in the rain last night. You dig around in your purse, but can't find a mirror so you whisper, "San, do you have a mirror?"

The tarp flap the separates your rooms and a hand extends to you with a mirror in it, but it is most certainly _not_ Santana's hand. It's large and masculine so you grab the wrist and push the flap back. A very confused looking Finn looks around like he's trying to escape. He's in a shirt and boxers, his hair messed up.

"What are you doing here?" you demand, looking at a sleeping Santana on the bed behind him.

He whispers back, "I don't know where you and Rachel were, but it sounded like she was crying. Brittany gave me twenty bucks to go check on her after Santana wouldn't let her in the tent. She let me in and I sat on the bed. She looked so sad so I held her and we both fell asleep."

You narrow your eyes at him, like you don't quite believe him. Because you don't. You do let go of him though, "You better get out of here before they both wake up."

He nods and fumbles with the zipper, but makes a quick escape. Of course when you turn around Rachel is stretching. Her eyes catch yours and she says, "Good morning."

"Good morning," you reply and lay down in the bed.

She pulls you to her and adds, "After you feel asleep when we got back I got up to check on Santana. I saw him in Santana's bed last night."

"You're not mad?" you ask her.

Rachel shakes her head, "I know Santana only wants one person and Finn is awfully fun to cuddle with."

You feel your heart sink when she says that. She must have seen the pout on your face because her arms tighten around you, "You're awfully fun to cuddle with too." She pulls back and props up her head to look at you, "You know, even if Finn and Santana were sleeping together…again, I wouldn't be mad. I was the one that initiated the break with him. We're not together."

"You're sort of together," you offer, looking up at her, "A break is like putting a relationship on hold. It's still there."

You can see that she's thinking fairly hard. Finally she nods, "You're right." After she expels a breath, "I just don't know what I'm going to do."

You feel like you should tell her what you think she should do. Offer her some sage advice from a more experienced point of view. She looks at you expectantly, but you can't come up with anything other than a straight up 'dump him'. You don't really know what you're doing so you don't think that you're in a place to tell her what she should do. "Do whatever makes you happy."

"That's always good advice," Rachel grins at you.

"Oh my god, it's stuck," you hear. "It's stuck." You roll onto your back and listen again. You can hear a few people talking.

"Turn it off."

"I can't!"

"It's going everywhere."

You and Rachel are out of the tent and assessing the situation. You hear Rachel burst into laughter. Brittany, Tina, Mercedes, and Mike are all standing around a fog machine that's blowing out a thick fog around the stage. You join Rachel in laughter. Neither one of you try to help them turn it off and soon the whole room if filling with maple syrup smelling smoke. You're up to your shoulders in it.

"Has anyone seen Artie?" Tina asks.

You reach over and take Rachel's hand. She's short and you don't want to lose her in the fog. She laughs again and pulls you close to her. You can barely make out her face, but she grins up at you. She shakes her head, "Only the New Direction right?"

You keep your arm around her shoulders and turn to the group, "What happened?"

"Mike found the fog machine while looking for a place to get it on with Tina," Puck states.

"Noah!" Rachel scolds him.

"What the fuck?" you hear Santana. She must have woken up and walked outside the tent.

Tina decides to take over. Most likely so no one will embarrass her anymore, "We thought we could use it in one of our numbers, but it got stuck."

You can hear the hissing of the machine as it continues to billow out thick white smoke. You wonder how they managed to get it stuck. You start to walk in the direction of where the group is slowly disappearing, but Rachel takes your hand and stops you. You can barely see her to ask what's going on.

"We better stay here," She says, "I wouldn't want you to fall off of the stage."

You look around and nod. You can't really make out your feet anymore so you decide that Rachel's idea is a good one.

"Santana?" you call out, hoping that your friend didn't go walking around.

"I'm here," you voice behind you makes you jump and when you turn around you can see her. Suddenly you feel really disoriented. You don't even know where your tent is.

A game of Marco Polo starts on the other end of the stage. Santana waves in front of her face trying to clear the smoke away, "This isn't going to kill us is it?" The even way she asks leads you to believe that she doesn't really think it will.

"No," Rachel shakes her head, "It's mostly just water. Some glycerol. It's perfectly safe."

"It's getting cold in here," you mention, pulling Rachel closer to you.

Santana looks around, "I guess we could find the tent. I only took like three steps out of it."

You hear footsteps nearing you and then passing a few feet to you right. Then you hear a stumble and the rustle of the tarp of the tent. You call out, "Who's in the tent?"

"It's just me," the voice of Brittany drifts toward you, "Are you guys okay?"

"Yeah," you eye Santana who doesn't look happy at all.

"Are you at our tent Brittany?" Rachel asks.

"Yeah."

Rachel starts walking in the direction of Brittany's voice, pulling you along with her. You grab Santana before you can't see her anymore and pull her along too. She resists at first, but finds that your grip isn't tightening any. When you make it to the tent, Santana bypasses Brittany and steps into her side of the tent, zipping it up completely.

You're not really super happy with Brittany at the moment so you barely acknowledge her. Rachel must have invited her into your tent because she walks in after you and sits down on the floor by the bed. You can ear the music pounding out of Santana's headphones through the plastic wall.

"Where did you guys go last night?" Brittany asks, looking up at Rachel who is digging through her bag.

"We went to check on someone," she gives Brittany a gentle I'll-leave-it-at-that smile.

Brittany just nods and tries not to look at you. She's not very good at it. You can see her blue eyes struggling not to look at you. Finally you give her a small smile. You find it extremely difficult to be mad at her. A smile grows on her face.

You feel fingers run through your hair and you close your eyes and lean into it. You don't know if it's the color or the cut or just that Rachel's naturally affectionate, but she runs her fingers through your hair all the time. And you absolutely love it. You now understand why dogs and cats love to be pet. Sometimes when you can't sleep, Rachel will stroke your hair until you're so content you can't help, but fall asleep.

"Quinn looks like a puppy when you do that," Brittany mentions.

You smile and look up at Rachel. She smiles down at you and answers Brittany, "She is a little puppy." With a kiss to your forehead, Rachel goes back to her bag and starts digging again.

You look longing after her. You don't know what's going on with you, but you feel something every time Rachel does something like that. You know that you're an emotional mosh-pit right now and starting anything with anyone would be a horrible idea, but there's a little tingling in your stomach when she kisses you and there's a longing to be around her every second of every day. You don't want to confuse some strange grieving process with actually feelings toward her. Number one, she could become really creeped out by you and pull away or number two, you two could get involved only for you to find out that it was just a grieving thing. You don't want to hurt her. You just got her back.

When you avert your eyes to Brittany she looks like she's trying to stare a hole through the wall of the tent separating you three and Santana. She gives up with a sigh and looks down at her phone. She lightly traces the screen with her finger and swallows hard. Her eyes tentatively meet yours, "Has she…is she okay?"

Her voice is quiet and unsure. You take a deep breath and let out a shrug, "I'm not sure. I mean she's kinda messed up about everything. She'd have to be pretty messed up to make out with me right?"

Apparently Brittany didn't like that joke. She looks at you with tears in her eyes and storms out of the tent. Rachel runs after her and they both disappear into the fog.

"Stop, you're going to fall off of the stage," you warn them at the door of the tent.

"Way to go Fabray," Santana says stepping out of the tent behind you.

You turn back to her, "You were listening to us?"

"Of course," Santana rolls her eyes and peers into the fog behind you. It's denser than before and it seems no one has figured out how to turn the machine off.

"You weren't listening to music?" you ask, feeling kinda stupid for asking now.

Santana shakes her head, "I just turned up the music and put the headphones under my pillow. Eavesdropping 101."

Rachel returns with Brittany who actively avoids you this time because she's upset with you. You feel a little guilty although you can rationalize everything that happened between you and Santana. She didn't seem to mind you punching Santana in the face.

You don't really know how to handle Brittany and luckily you don't have to. Santana pulls you into her side of the tent and you sit down on the bed next to her. You sigh, "You know that this probably isn't going to help."

"Yeah well neither is you going over there. You can't seem to shut your trap," Santana huffs, "You're lucky I don't beat the shit out of you again."

You roll your eyes, "You didn't the first time." You can feel the flame of anger flare in the back of your mind. You know you need to ignore it, but Santana knows exactly how to press your buttons.

"Bitch please," Santana stands up, ready to go at it again. Luckily/unluckily, you are too.

A few more words are exchanged before you're both rolling around on the bed trying to get a few good hits in. The yelling must have attracted the other two girls because you can feel Santana being pulled off of you. Brittany has her around the waist and Rachel dives on top of you to keep you from going after her again.

"Santana," you can hear Brittany trying to calm her down, "Santana…stop….you're hurting me." You start to get up when you hear that Santana's hurting Brittany, but you see that Santana has stopped struggling and is looking down at Brittany's hand, all traces of anger gone.

You fall back onto the bed and look up at Rachel who is straddling your waist. She looks sadly down at you and traces her fingers across your face where you just realize are stinging. "I really can't leave you two alone anymore can I?"

You start to open your mouth to say something, but she bends down and tenderly kisses every single stinging place on your face and neck before sitting up, "All better?"

You let out what must be the stupidest grin on the planet and nod, "All better."

She stands up and pulls you up off of the bed. Her arms slides around your waist and her head tucks itself under your chin, "You worry me sometimes Quinn."

"I'm sorry," you can feel the tears biting at the back of your eyes. You absolutely hate disappointing her.

She pulls away to run her fingers through your hair, "Don't be sorry. I just worry. I don't like you getting hurt."

Before you can tell her that this hurting isn't a cakewalk, that it flares up at stupid times and makes you do things you wouldn't normally do, a loud whirling noise fills the room. It sounds like one of the industrial fans Coach Sylvester used to bring in when the school board said that she wasn't allowed to make you practice in the summer, in the gym without some kind of way to cool you all off.

You and Rachel join Brittany and Santana in cautiously walking toward the noise. As you get closer the fog has thinned out significantly. Not so much that you let go of Rachel's hand because you still don't want her to fall.

"What happened to you baby mama?"

You turn to your left and find Puck and Lauren leaning on each other by the four foot tall fan. Mr. Schue is visible behind it with his arms crossed. You're pretty sure that you're all prematurely aging him. When he sees you his jaw falls a little. His eyes search around you and you're sure that he finds Santana looking in the same sad shape as you.

"What is going on with you guys?" he shakes his head, "There's water all up and down the hallway leading into the auditorium. Some of you left last night. I can barely see most of you. Santana and Quinn…" He shakes his head, "Everyone to the choir room."

You bow your head and let Rachel pull you toward the exit. You don't like disappointing Mr. Schue either. He's pretty much the only parental figure you have now. You're surprised when Rachel stops you both in front of Mr. Schue instead of following everyone else out the door.

"Mr. Schue," Rachel states, "Quinn and I were the ones that left last night. Quinn wanted to go check on her mother who hasn't left her bed since her daughter, Quinn's sister was killed in a car crash. I apologize for not informing you that we were leaving, but I will not apologize for leaving and neither will Quinn."

You and Mr. Schue are both pretty dumbstruck by the way Rachel just addressed that. He just opens and closes his mouth a few times. He nods and rests his hand on his chest, "Thank you for explaining that to me." He nods to you both and gestures for you to lead the way out of the auditorium.

You both settle into your regular seats in the glee room, next to Santana. Santana and Brittany are sitting next to each other, but you think it was more of a convenience thing that them actually wanting to. Santana's arms are crossed and she's staring hard at the front of the room.

"Okay guys," Mr. Schue leans back on the piano, "I know that this lock-in wasn't the bonding experience that I hoped it would be. Do any of you have any ideas? I really want us to go back to being the family we were before the summer."

There is an awkward silence over the group. You look at Rachel who is usually brimming with ideas. You find her looking at the cuts on the knuckles of your hand that's intertwined with yours in her lap. Her shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath and she looks up at you. When she sees you looking she smiles, but it's forced.

You know that Rachel greatly disapproves of violence. You just don't know what comes over you. You find a challenge presented by Santana and you can't back down. You have to admit that you feel less inner turmoil after one of your fights, but if the expense is disappointing Rachel then you'll just keep the turmoil.

Mr. Schue sends you all home with a promise that you'll think of team building activities. Rachel sweet talks Finn and Puck into breaking down your tent and soon you're on your way home. Santana's in the backseat staring out the window. You look back at her and she meets your eyes. You don't have to say sorry. You've known each other for a long time and words aren't needed. She just nods before returning her gaze out the window.

You rest your head on the headrest and watch the road as it rushes under you. Rachel pulls to a stop in front of Santana's house. She promises to come over to Rachel's house at four in preparation for the talk with Brittany.

As you're driving back to Rachel's house, you look over at her. Her eyes are firmly on the road, but you know that she knows that you're watching her. A soft smile plays on her lips and at the next stop sign she looks at you and quirks an eyebrow. It's only a few seconds, but it makes your stomach flutter. When her eyes are back on the road you take her right hand in yours and lace your fingers together.

"I'm sorry for fighting Santana again," you breathe out.

She squeezes your hand, "You have nothing to be sorry for Quinn."

"I…I should have better control of myself," you confess. You've been thinking that for a while. You shouldn't break into tears at random times or get angry at the drop of a hate. You should be in complete control like you were before. "I just…anger comes so quickly that I…before I know it I'm trying to hit Santana."

"It's all part of your grieving," Rachel tells you as she pulls into her driveway. She cuts the engine and looks at you. Her face falls when she sees tears again. She pushes the armrest up and pulls you over to her.

After she places a few kisses on your head, you pull at her shirt trying to get her closer, "I'm so tired of grieving, but I always feel like I haven't done it enough or I do it too much. I always feel like I'm doing it wrong. I should know what to do."

The fingers traveling through your hair help calm you from the peak of emotions you were teetering on. "Everyone does it differently. You just have to let yourself go through it at your own pace." She looks at you and gives you a smile that makes you weak all over. "I'll be here for you through all of it no matter how long it takes."

"What about after?" you ask. You despise the weakness in your voice, but you're not afraid of what Rachel will think. No matter what you do she's always there with a hug, a kiss and a warm embrace.

She chuckles and trails her fingers up and down your arm, "Where's you there in fifth grade? We're best friends forever. I have at least twenty bracelets and necklaces that you gave me to prove it."

You can't help, but feel relieved. You hug her briefly again before helping her get everything out of the car and back up to her room. Rachel's dads are dancing around the kitchen and making lunch so of course Rachel joins them. You watch them and laugh like nothing is wrong because when you watch them all dancing around and singing together like that, nothing _is_ wrong.


	8. Come Back When You Can by Barcelona

"Daddy, Dad," you say as you walk into the kitchen.

"Hey honey," your Dad grins at you, "Where's Quinn?"

"She's with Santana and I know I said I wouldn't leave them alone again. She'll probably have a nose ring in a few minutes but I needed to talk to you both…without her."

You have both of their attentions now. You lean on the counter and spin a pepper shaker between your hands, "It's about her mom."

They look between each other leading you to believe that they've discussed her before. You take a deep breath because you've practice this speech. The important points are written on your computer. So you start with point one, "Quinn needs her mom. She needs a parent." They both nod. On to point two, "So Judy needs help to get back to a place where she can be a parent to Quinn." Again they nod. "I need your help getting Judy help."

You pull a piece of paper out of your back pocket, "Here is a list of psychologists, psychotherapists, and psychiatrists that specialize in extreme grief willing to make house calls. The ones that are highlighted in yellow are fully covered by the Fabrays' insurance. The ones in orange are partially covered. I just don't know how to go about setting up the appointments or which one to choose."

Even your thoroughly meticulous Dad looks impressed. Daddy rises and puts his hand on yoru shoulder, "We'll take care of the rest honey."

Dad looks over the paper you have and asks, "How did you get her insurance information?"

"Quinn has a card in her wallet."

"Why were you in her wallet?"

"I was making sure she had lunch money," you confess sheepishly, "We eat together, but she doesn't like me to pay for hers so until the settlement came through I made sure she had money."

Both of your dads smile lovingly at you. You know they're proud of you. They were proud of you before because of your talent and drive. Now they're proud that you're a caring person. You've taken in someone who for the past two years has tormented you daily. You care for her daily. You sort of feel guilty that no one knows of your true feelings for her. Well except Santana. You're still worried that she'll tell Quinn, but you had to talk to your dads. It's worth the risk. You want her to be happy again.

But now that she's gone, you're not sure what to do. Your objective is complete so you go up to your room. Jacob has been hounding your MySpace for a new video. You guess you can do that.

In your room, you look up at the gold star clock on the wall. It tells you that Quinn and Santana are due to arrive in four hours and Brittany in five. You don't know what's up with Brittany, but you hope that she can fess up for Santana's sake.

You manage to get a few good takes of yourself singing Celine Dion's 'The Power of the Dream' before putting it up on MySpace. Within minutes you get three comments. Jacob's usually perverted albeit flattering review. Quinn posts a smiley face. Santana asks who still uses MySpace.

You smile in your desk chair and shake your head. You know that that is Santana's way of telling you that she liked it. If she didn't, she would have said something. Lack of comments usually means that she approves.

Your eyes fall to your bed. There are two distinct colors on your bed, dividing the pillows in half. You have two pillows and Quinn has two, although most of the time you serve as her pillow. Her dramatic, bold cool colors clash completely with the warm pastels of your linens, but you sort of like it. It's a tangible reminder that she'll be back. You have her pillows and her clothes and pretty much every other worldly possession that she cares about in your room. You can't stand to imagine what could happen if she left. Not only to your heart, but to her. You feel like as long as she's with you, she's safe. She doesn't want to let you down so she stays in line and doesn't do anything too crazy.

You stand up and slowly make your way to the bed. Dramatically even. You wish she were here. There's no other feeling in the world like laying with her, cuddled under the covers. You toe off your shoes and slip under the covers. You can immediately smell a faint waft of her perfume as the blankets settle around you. You rest your head on your pillow and smile at the memory of her laying next to you, with her rarely seen reading glasses on.

It feels so right being with her. Especially at night in the bed. She'll read until she's tired and you'll just watch her. The way she bites her lip or squints her eyes when she's reading is adorable. The way she'll absently run your fingers through your hair as she's reading is absolutely endearing. The way how no matter who lays down first or last, your bodies automatically find the most comfortable position. The way you just fit. It's so natural and so easy.

You must have fallen asleep because you wake up to the purr of Quinn's car outside your window. You get up and pause at a mirror to make sure that you look okay before walking to the window. You look down to find Quinn close the driver's side door. She looks up at you like she knew you were there, and on some level maybe she did. She gives you a smile before making her way inside.

You meet her down stairs and give her a hug like you haven't seen her in months. Then you take her hands and hold her arms out so that you can examine her. You find no body modifications, which relieves you to no end. Not that people shouldn't express themselves however they see fit. It's just that she's absolutely stunning as it is and you don't want her to do anything in a time of vulnerability that she may regret later.

She falls down on the couch and beckons you to join her. You can tell that she's exhausted but you comply because you've noticed that you're both happier when you're touching. The second you've laid down with her your fingers find their way into her hair. She leans into the touch and a soft smile resides on her face. You love that her reaction is always the same. It's a guaranteed way to get a smile.

Your lips ache for her skin and just about as you're about to give in you spot a dark spot on her collarbone. It looks awfully a lot like a bruise or a…dare you say…hickey. "Quinn?"

"Hmm?" she asks, looking at you.

"What's this?" you run your fingers lightly over that area. You dread her telling you that it is a hickey. That she and Santana are hooking up now because they're both upset. You don't want that for either of them. You know that Santana would pretend that Quinn was someone else while Quinn wished that she were someone else. Not to mention that your heart breaks every time Quinn kisses another person.

She looks down at it, as best she can and lays back down on the couch, "It's a bruise. Santana and I went to the boxing gym and used protective gear this time. Not that it really helps."

You gently run your finger over it again. You're conflicted. You're relieved that she isn't having sex with Santana, but you're worried about Quinn's aggression. Before you can address it, your dads walk into the room.

"Hey girls," your Dad says as he grabs his keys from the hook next to the door, "We have a few errands to run." You can see your yellow and orange highlighted list in his hand. You figure that they're going to talk to a few of the professionals on the list and see what they can find out. You give your dads an extra bright smile and they both return it.

"And dinner requests?" Daddy asks pausing in the doorway, "We'll be home around seven."

"I think I can take care of it," you tell them, "Why don't you go on a date?" Code for: stay out longer.

They silently confer between each other before your Dad answers for both of them. "Great idea sweetheart. We'll be back late then. Call us if you need anything girls. Love you."

"Love you too," you and Quinn say together. You can tell she's not really comfortable saying the 'L' word. You figure it must have been stoic and the complete opposite of your house when Russell was in her life. You got hugs and 'I love you's. Quinn probably got the occasional pat on the head at Christmas and 'Can't you do any better?'s. You didn't really know. When you went to her house, you avoided Russell like the plague and you weren't took keen on Judy being around either. You liked Quinn to come over to your house.

You give her another hug, trying to make up her lack of them from her parents. She doesn't know why you're doing it, but she hugs you back. After a minutes or so she adds, "I don't know if Santana is coming."

"What do you mean?" you prop your head up to look at her.

"She wouldn't talk about what was going to happen today," she mentions, "I just don't have a good feeling about it. I doubt she'll show."

You figured as much. Santana's not one for confronting her feelings. You're not looking forward to seeing Brittany's face when you tell her that Santana isn't coming. You know that it's not partially your fault, but you never enjoy upsetting people. You bite your lip as you zone out, trying to decide what you're going to tell Brittany.

"I'll talk to her," Quinn tells you and pulls you back against her. "You should rest or something."

"For what?" you ask her.

She grins, "You forgot? We're going to a play tonight."

You immediately smile, "It must have slipped my mind. I didn't forget. In fact I have already picked out my outfit. I guess I should call Daddy and remind him."

"I'll do it later," she says to you and smiles at you, "Would you like me to make you dinner or take you out?"

You raise an eyebrow. This sounds awfully a lot like a date. Not that you're complaining. You'd love to go on a date with her, but alas it'll most likely never happen. "You don't have to do either one of those."

"Rach, it's ridiculous how much you do for me," she says, "I'm just trying to give you a night where you can relax."

You're about to tell her that you relax enough when there's a knock on the door. You check your phone and find that it's a little past the time that Santana is supposed to arrive. Quinn looks as surprised as you feel, but you get up and answer the door anyway.

You are definitely surprised as to who is on the other side of the door. "Finn?"

He smiles awkwardly and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Um, I just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out tonight…this evening. As…as friends. We could go bowling?"

"I'm afraid I already have plans tonight," you see him grimace so you quickly add, "But maybe…tomorrow?"

He let's out another smile, "Awesome. Two o'clock okay?"

"Great," you lean on the door, "Quinn and I will meet you there."

"You're bringing Quinn?" he asks. This is the first time you notice him being crestfallen. You check behind you to see if Quinn's listening. You can't see her so you assume that she's still laying on the couch. You step out onto the front porch and close the door behind you.

"Look I know it's cool that you're hanging out with Quinn now, but…" he trails off, running his hands down the front of his puffy vest, "You don't have time for anyone else."

"Quinn needs me," you add quietly.

He shakes his head. You know that he doesn't believe you. Nobody believes you except for Quinn and Santana. Which reminds you that you need to find Santana before you and Quinn go out tonight. Anyway, he thinks that Quinn's using you for something. Maybe she is, but it's irrelevant at this point. You're in too deep and you don't actually care anymore.

"Finn," you sigh and look down at the wooden boards under your feet, "You know that Quinn is my priority right now."

"Over everyone else?" he asks.

You nod, "For right now yes. I can't tell you what's going to happen in the future, but right now…She's alone and I can't let her be alone. She needs someone who is not going to abandon her the second things get difficult."

His hands seek out his hips and his eyes get smaller between his narrowed eyelids, "Is that a shot at me?"

What is he talking about? "No. I'm talking about both of her parents." Where did he get that you were talking about him?

"Oh," he drops his hands, "I just…I feel like you're replacing me with her."

You lick your lips and pause to close your eyes for a moment. You've felt this too. Everywhere Finn used to be, Quinn is now. But in the back of your mind you know that Quinn was always there too. "I'm sorry Finn. I truly am, but Quinn…"

"I know," he runs his hand over his head, "It's cool. It's kinda awesome that you're both getting along now, ya know?"

You let out a smile, "Definitely."

"So I'll see you and Quinn at the bowling alley tomorrow at two?" he asks.

He's being sweet about it so you nod, "Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow." He bends over to hug you before walking back to his truck. You smile softly after him and remember why you liked him in the first place.

When you walk back into the house, you walk over to the couch and find Quinn fast asleep. You take a moment to just admire how angelic she looks just laying there. Even though her hair is falling out of her ponytail, even though her mouth is slightly open, she's still gorgeous.

Your eyes land on her lips and you wonder what it's like to kiss her. If it's sweet or sexy. If she's a passionate kisser or allows her partner to guide the kiss. You wonder what her lips taste like. You wonder just how soft they are. She's probably stunning when she's kissing someone. Her lips parted and her eyes shut.

You shake your head. These are bad thoughts. You don't want to take advantage of her. She's absolutely raw and you'd feel like a horrible person if you kissed her. Although it's getting difficult not to what with the dinner and theatre tickets.

You've not only seen, but acted in a Lima Revival Theatre rendition of Death of a Salesman. She doesn't need to know that, because what she's doing is incredibly sweet. You'd have been happy if she wanted to stay home and curl up on the couch to watch whatever movie she wanted to watch. The fact that she actually put some kind of thought into the gift means all that much more.

Just as you're about to wriggle into the small space on the edge of the couch next to Quinn the doorbell rings. It seems to jog her from her sleep because she's sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "Was I asleep?"

You nod and run your fingers through her hair to smooth it out. You look at the clock on the wall and ask, "Brittany or Santana?"

Quinn looks at the clock that reads 4:28 pm. After she stands and stretches she adds, "It's Britt. Santana's not coming."

You feel bad for Brittany, probably more than you should. And the look on her face when Quinn tells her that Santana's not there and probably won't be, breaks your heart. Her eyes start watering, but she tries to keep a straight face. Her looks down at the flower in her hand that is no doubt for Santana. "I'll just…" She turns on her heel and starts walking.

"Brittany," Quinn calls and bounds down the front porch stairs after her. You follow them in time to hear Quinn ask Brittany if she's okay to drive. Brittany can barely hold her head up, let along see through the tears in her eyes. Quinn says that she'll drive Brittany to her house and you can follow in her car to pick her up. Brittany furiously swipes the tears off of her face as she nods.

You follow Quinn at a close, but safe distance. She turns down a few streets that you weren't sure would lead you to Brittany's house, but you were content to trust Quinn's sense of direction.

However when she pulled to a stop it was in front of an all too familiar house that did not belong to the Pierces. You watched Brittany get out of her car and trot over to Santana's car that's parked in her otherwise empty driveway. The blonde kissed the flower and rested it on the hood of the car. With a parting glance to Santana's house, specifically the window to Santana's bedroom, she runs back to the car.

As you're waiting for Brittany to get her seatbelt on and Quinn to start moving again you look up at Santana's window to find the girl in question looking down at you. Even from the weird angle and the height difference you can tell that there are tears streaming down her cheeks. She crosses her arms and her eyes fall on you.

It's like the eye contact with her is transferring her pain into you. Her gaze is a steely grip squeezing your heart. The heartbreak in her eyes makes you weak. She reaches for something out of your sight and looks down at whatever is now in her hand.

You feel your phone buzz in your lap and put the car in park. You know where Brittany lives and can easily catch up. When you open the text from Santana it says: _I know you and Q are going out tonight. Do you think I could chill at your house while you're gone?_

You know she doesn't want to be alone. It makes sense. Your dads will probably be home before you and Quinn, but even just the two men in the house is better than the cold, stagnant air in Santana's house. You look up at the window to find her still looking at you. You nod and give her a small smile.

She returns a look that looks less depressed than her previous expression. It's still sad, but less so. You throw the car into drive and begin the drive to Brittany's house.

Quinn is somber when she gets into the car. She was waiting for you and when you drove up she walked straight to you. "I thought you stayed to talk to Santana."

"No," you shake your head, "She's coming over."

There's an exhale before she asks, "Are we still going out?" You can tell that she's disappointed because she thinks your canceling your plans.

"Of course," you smile, "I wouldn't miss Death of a Salesman with you for anything." When she takes your hand you add, "She's just going to hang out while we're gone."

"Oh," Quinn leans back into her seat, "That's cool."

When you get back to your house, Santana's car is already parked along the street. She's sitting on the front porch, a black cigarette between her fingers. After a long drag, she exhales a stream of smoke and stands as you near.

As you're unlocking the front door you can see Quinn take the cigarette from Santana. A stream of smoke wafts out of her mouth and you shake your head. You don't understand how one of the best people for Quinn right now is also one of the worst.

You push the door open and stand to the side so that they can get inside. You shoot Santana a glare. She smirks and produces a plastic baggie from her pocket. She drops the cigarette butt into the baggie and closes it. You can't stop a smile. You lectured both of them about the cigarette butts around the house because your dads would have a coronary. It seems Santana was actually listening.

She gives you a smile and a one armed hug as she walks past you. You just shake your head after her and follow them inside.

Santana's laying on your bed and Quinn's taking a shower as you look through your clothes. You've already picked out what to wear for tonight, but you want to have a general idea what you're going to wear to school over the next week.

"Are you sure you'll be okay here by yourself?" you turn around with a black sweater with white bunnies on it in your hand. It's finally getting cool enough outside to wear it.

She adjusts her hold on the pillow in her arms, "I don't think so. Your sweaters scare me."

You roll your eyes and put the sweater back into the closet. When you turn back around she's smiling which makes you smile because normally she's so somber. "I'm serious Santana."

She nods, "I'll be fine while you go out on your date."

"It's not a date," you pick up a shirt that's draped over your computer chair and throw it at her.

She laughs, "Yeah keep telling yourself that."

"Keep telling yourself what?" Quinn asks, stepping out of the bathroom in the towel.

You're momentarily stunned into speechlessness. Number one, Quinn's in a towel. A very small towel. Number two, Santana may have just been caught calling this a date and that's not a can of worms you're ready to open.

"That her sweaters don't cause blindness," Santana offers with a shrug.

You can see the glare that Quinn shoots Santana and it's a serious, don't-fuck-with-her glare. You smile at her protectiveness and place your hand on her upper arm. "It's okay Quinn. She was only teasing."

Quinn turns to you and looks you over, like she's looking for wounds or something. "Okay, but let me know if she's being mean. I'll kick her ass."

"Like you could," Santana says from the bed.

"I already have," Quinn turns to her.

You quickly step between them and look between them. The last thing you need right now is them fighting. Especially in your room. You place a hand on Quinn's towel covered stomach because she takes a step forward. "Quinn," you say in what you hope is a soothing voice, "No black eyes tonight okay? We're going to relax."

Her looks from Santana to you and you glance back at Santana who is standing next to the bed, her fists balled. When your eyes return to Quinn she nods. Her face has softened as she looks down at you, "I'm going to go dry my hair."

You turn to Santana who looks like she's about to say something, but bites her lip. Once Quinn is back in the bedroom you cross your arms. "Why do you have to provoke her?"

"I'm not going to sit here like a little bitch when she insults me," Santana growls.

You swiftly walk over to her, "Santana, I don't think she meant to insult you. I know that you're hurting and that you find physical aggression an acceptable to way deal with it, but please, I hate it when you two fight."

"Because I kick your girlfriend's ass," Santana's hands loosen and her shoulders relax.

"Santana," you say sternly.

She smiles, "Fine. I'll try to stop wanting to fight Quinn all the time. But if she throws the first punch, it's on."

"That's all I ask," you give her a small smile, "I'm going to hug you now okay?"

Santana opens her arms to you and you wrap your arms around her slender waist. When the hug is over you pull back and think you may see the beginnings of tears in Santana's eyes when she falls back onto the bed and rolls on her side away from you.

"Santana," you say softly.

You can see her shake her head, "I'm fine." You hear a barely audible sniffle and Santana rises from the bed, "I'm going to go grab something to eat." She shuffles out of the room and you start to go after her when you hear Quinn immerge. You're a little stunned at first, but finally regain enough control over your muscles to smile. Her hair is flared out and her dark dress brushes the bottoms of her knees.

She smiles at you and walks over to the closet where she sorts through her side to pull out a cardigan. "You get ready. I'll go take care of dinner."

You must have nodded because she slips on her sweater and walks out of the room. When you do get into the shower, it's heavenly. All of Quinn's shampoos and soaps are lined along one side of the shower organizer you bought and when you're in the shower you shamelessly smell them all, reveling in the memories they provoke. You don't know how she does it, but they all blend together to make it incredibly difficult not to just pull her to you and inhale the heaven. So you settle for the less awkward, but still creepy shower smelling.

After you're completely content and relaxed, you duck your head and let the water completely wash over you. You'd like to spend another ten minutes just standing there, but there are two volatile girls downstairs that need you. So you go through your shower routine quickly and exit the shower, trying to decide whether to go with your pre-selected outfit or make up a whole new one for your theatre outing.

You listen for a moment to make sure that the girls are behaving before going into your closet. You go with that you originally picked out and blow-dry your hair. After you decide that everything looks perfect, you smile at yourself in the mirror. Outside your calm and cool and collected, but inside you're a jumping up and down mess. It's not a date, but it feels like one.

You grab your purse and take one last look in the mirror. You can't contain a small squeal and a clap before you compose yourself and walk out the door.


	9. Pa Pa Power by Dead Man's Bones

"What's wrong with me?" you ask, staring at her open window.

"Santana?" She appears in the window frame. She looks confused and you can see her check behind her like someone is there.

Your stomach is warm and you feel lightheaded. The vodka is in every particle of your body and you're still fuzzy as to how you got here. You can feel the soft grass give under your shoes and you move your foot to the side so you don't fall over. "What's wrong with me?" You demand. You can feel yourself swaying, "Why don't you love me?"

"What are you talking about?" she asks, leaning on the windowsill, "Of course I love you."

"You bumped my ass," you yell, "How could you do that if you love me?"

Then everything fades out because you can see it. That stupid haircut rolling toward the window. He's there. You want to scream and yell and throw things. You want to punch someone in the face and cry for days.

But before you can choose which one you're going to do, flashing lights appear behind you. Fucking Brittany's neighbors called the cops. Of course she did. She used to call Brittany's parents every time you and her would leave the house after dark if you had permission or not. Why the fuck didn't you wear your Cheerio uniform? You could get out of this so much easier. Now you're drunk and yelling and underage and completely fucked.

When you look back at the window, Brittany's gone. Just fucking Artie staring at you from the window.

"Is there a problem?" the officer asks. You didn't even realize he had walked up to you.

You turn to him and do your best to not look as drunk as you actually are. "No."

"There was a call about a disturbance," he states, looking you over.

You glance at the neighbor's house and see the old lady peeking out from between her blinds. When she sees you looking her disappears. You sigh and look back at the officer, "I'll just go. I'm sorry."

"Hold on," he steps in front of you, "How much have you had to drink?"

You open your mouth to answer when you hear the eternally squeaky front door of the Pierce house open. Both parents and Brittany step outside.

The officer tells you to sit on the curb and wait for him. Once you do, he walks back to the Pierces. You're surprised that he doesn't handcuff you, but you are too drunk to run away.

You rest your forehead on your knees and wrap your arms around your legs. You never noticed how cold you were until now. The occasionally gust causes you to shiver, but you try to focus on the warmth the vodka is creating in your stomach.

You feel the weight of material drop on your shoulder. You don't want to know who's there, so you keep your head down. The blanket is warm and smells like the inside of the Pierce house, dredging up all kinds of memories you'd rather forget.

"Where are your parents, honey?" the soothing voice of Mrs. Pierce asks.

You shrug your shoulders and lift your head. You look straight ahead, but watch her out of the corner of your eye. There's a stray cat running through the bushes across the street. The lawn across the street is wet, the sprinklers were probably just on. You remember running through those very sprinklers with Brittany on a whim. You've never laughed so hard in your life. It looks like you never will again.

"Are you staying alone at home?" she asks you, her eyes stay on your face.

You shake your head. Everything's just so fucked. You're going to jail and your parents aren't in town to bail you out.

"Where are you staying dear?" she asks, placing a hand on your back.

You successfully stifle tears as you answer, "The Berrys."

You can tell that she looks surprised, but is trying to hide it. If you hadn't known her since you were little you would have fallen for it, "I'll be right back."

You drop your head again. You can hear them all talking behind you, but their words are blurred in the wind. You pull the blanket tighter around yourself. You hear Brittany add something before her dad takes over.

Finally you hear the heavy booted footsteps walk toward you and you prepare yourself for a night in jail. "Miss Lopez?" he asks, his tone less authoritative and more respectful, "Can you stand up for me?"

You sigh and stand. He walks the few steps to his car and opens the front passenger door. You look questioningly at him before you glance back at the Pierce family. They're all huddled against the wind. Mrs. Pierce is giving you a sad smile and Mr. Pierce has his arm around his wife. Your eyes fall on Brittany for a brief moment before you have to look away. There are tears in her eyes, a few escaping against the cold wind.

You sit in the passenger's seat and the officer closes the door. Inside the cab, there's a laptop open and flashing through the constantly scrolling reports. A bar of buttons hangs above the laptop. Once the officer is in, he instructs you to put on your seatbelt and then he puts on his own. He checks a little notepad in his hand before tossing it onto the dashboard and taking off.

You lean on the door as the darkened houses pass you. After a few blocks he says, "You know, I get it." You look over at him and raise an eyebrow. He chuckles at your look, "I caught me wife cheating on me with my partner." He flashes his left hand at you and you can see the tan line where a wedding ring used to be. "It sucks, but it gets better you know?"

"No I don't know," you lean back onto the window.

He smiles and runs his hand over his hair, "Well, you come find me in a few weeks and we'll talk." When he pulls to a stop you find yourself in front of the Berry house. In some ways you feel like this is worse that jail. Both of Rachel's dads are home.

The officer gets out of the car and opens the door for you. You get out of the car with the blanket still on your shoulders. You're glad that your car is still there. It means you didn't drive it anywhere in your hazy drunkenness.

He helps you out and walks you to the door. You look at him and hope that somehow he'll leave before the door opens. But the door opens before either of you can knock. Rachel's daddy looks at you both, assessing the situation. Drawing his own conclusions that are probably worse than what really happened.

"What happened?" he finally asks and his eyes land on you. They're soft and kind, completely concerned, "Are you okay?"

The officer smiles politely, "She was just out walking. I didn't want her to get too cold on the way back." He nods to Mr. Berry and walks back to his car.

Mr. Berry opens the door wider for you and once you're inside you almost make it to the stairs before he says, "Why don't you have a seat on the couch?" It wasn't really a question so you sigh and walk to the couch, bumping into an end table on the way. Of course he noticed. He's the father of Miss Perceptive. She had to get it from somewhere.

He sits down next to you and leans with his forearms on his knees, "I know that officer was lying. You're obviously extremely intoxicated, Santana."

The blanket gets tighter around you. You don't know if you did it or it just feels like it, but it makes you feel safer. "I'm sorry." That's pretty much all you can say at this point. You're starting to feel sick.

"Where are your parents?" he asks softly, although his tone makes you think he already knows.

You wish people would stop asking that. It just reminds you that Brittany was the only one that ever really gave a shit about you before Rachel and Quinn decided to take you in like a fucking lost puppy. You bow your head and tell him, "I don't know. Medical conference or symposium or something..."

He rubs his face and looks at you a little longer, "Why don't you go take a shower and we'll talk more later okay?"

You quickly nod, although you find that to be a bad idea because it shakes your brain around. Now you really feel sick. You barely make it to Rachel's bathroom before you puke. After you're sure that there couldn't be anything left in your body to possibly throw up. You heave yourself off of the floor and start the shower.

Once you're done shower, you throw up one more time. There's a little peace in you stomach now, so you fall into Rachel and Quinn's bed. You pick up the blanket that Mrs. Pierce gave you and pull it over yourself. You know that you can't sleep so you just stare at the wall. All the thoughts start to hurt your head so you try to force them out. After a while the fact that Barbra Streisand is staring back at you, creeps you out so you roll over.

You really want to call or text Quinn or Rachel, but they're on their non-date. You don't want to interrupt. Not now that Rachel has taught Quinn how to smile again. Quinn needs as much Rachel as she can get right now.

You already feel guilty mooching on their time together. You finally decide to go back to your house. You don't feel drunk anymore. Just sick. Of course you can't let Rachel's dads know you're leaving. They may try to stop you. So you look out the window and try to figure out how to get off of this second floor. There aren't any trees close enough to climb onto. Your best bet is to climb onto the roof of the front porch and drop from there.

And that's what you do. You roll your ankle and curse under your breath, but get to your car okay.

Your house is empty when you get there, not that you expected anything else.

With a heavy sigh, you walk up to your room. You change into some Cheerio sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt. You turn the heater on in the house and curl up in a ball on your bed under the blanket Mrs. Pierce gave you. It smells like their house. It reminds you of the time you spent in their house. The times when Brittany was yours.

You fell asleep and woke up with a killer headache. Then the doorbell rings again. You slowly get up and walk toward the window. You catch Rachel's eyes. She's still dressed in her theatre dress, looking up at your window in the light of the streetlamps. She smiles softly and waves.

You raise your hand in a small wave back. The doorbell rings again and Rachel breaks eyes contact to call to Quinn. Then she looks back up to you and points to the door. You nod and go downstairs to let them in. When you pull it open, they walk in without invitation. You don't care though. You're relieved that they're here. Way more than you'd ever admit.

Once it's closed you follow Quinn into the living room. You all sit in different places. You sit in the armchair, Quinn in the love seat and Rachel on the couch.

"Santana," Rachel says, "My dads told us what happened."

"So?" you ask, challenging. You're not going to let them, especially Quinn of all people, lecture you about irrational behavior. She let you dye her hair without looking at it first. Who in their right mind would do that? Especially with you?

"We just came to check on you," Rachel says.

There's a knock on the door before you can reply. You get up, happy to escape Quinn's studying gaze. When you open the door thought, you're not sure if it was worth it. Mrs. Pierce is standing there. She's smiling and holding a casserole dish covered in foil.  
"I brought you some dinner," she says with a smile.

You look behind her. It must be almost ten. But you take the dish from her with a dumbfounded look anyway. You were just beyond drunk, yelling at her daughter in her front yard and she's bringing you dinner.

"You make sure to eat all of that. You're getting too skinny," she says with a warm smile and makes her way back to her car.

You close the door and make your way to the kitchen. You slide the food (Mr. Pierce's delicious lasagna) into the oven to keep it warm. You're definitely going to eat it when you feel less nauseous.

Back in the living room, Rachel has moved to the love seat. They're quietly talking to each other. When you walk in, Rachel smiles, "Who was it?"

"Mrs. Pierce," you sigh, "Brought me dinner. There's a lot in there. You guys can have some too."

"Thank you, but we already ate," Rachel stands up, "You ready to come home?"

"Home?" You look around, "I am home."

Quinn rolls her eyes, "Get your stuff. I'm tired."

You should be pissed off, but you're just so happy that you're not going to be alone tonight. You throw some of your clothes into a bag and get into the backseat of Quinn's car, which you note that Rachel is driving. Their hands join on the console between them and you're upset all over again. You miss that. With a sigh you sink back down on the seat the lasagna balanced on your knees.

As Rachel and Quinn change you get a plate out of the kitchen and gets some lasagna. You leave the dish out just in case someone else wants some. As you're eating by yourself at the dining room table, Rachel's dad walks in.

He sits across from you and you look down at your food, knowing that it's his turn to tell you that you're a fuck up too. He takes a sip from the glass of water that he brought with him. Then he says, "Santana, we need to talk."

You just keep staring at your food suddenly not all that hungry anymore.

"I know you're upset. It's completely understandable," he says, "Don't tell Rachel, but after my first boyfriend dumped me, I spent a week in my room smoking pot and eating Twinkies."

Your eyes widen. That's not something you expected from the balding, glasses wielding man. He chuckles at your expression, "I'm not your dad Santana, but I care about you. If you go out I won't stop you unless it's after eleven. You don't have to jump off of the roof. If you drink, don't drive. Call me or Rachel's daddy, or Rachel and Quinn. We'll pick you up and we won't judge you. The guest room is all yours if you want it. Just tone it down okay?"

You nod to him. It's really the first parental direction you've gotten in a long time and instead of resenting it you accept it. You feel a little less out of control now that you have some kind of authoritative direction.

He gives you a warm fatherly smile and affectionately grasps your shoulder before leaving you to your dinner. You're only alone for a few minutes before Rachel walks in. She's wearing some of her ridiculous 1950s pajamas, but you can't bring yourself to tease her about it. You're really tired and you just want to eat and go to bed.

She pauses, just looking at you before disappearing into the kitchen and returning with a glass of water that she sets in front of you. You force an appreciative smile. "How was your date?"

"It wasn't a date," she beams, "But it was wonderful." She gets a dreamy look on her face. "Quinn's so sweet."

You fake a gag and Rachel playfully pushes you with a laugh, "She can be nice."

"I know," you admit. You use your fork to slice off a piece of lasagna. "I think it's cool that she has you, you know."

"You have me too you know," Rachel offers.

You don't understand why after all these years she cares about you now, but you're thankful. You hide behind a quip because you're starting to get emotional. "I hope not the same way Quinn does."

She giggles, "No, but we're friends right?"

"Yeah," you nod. A month ago? No fucking way, but you're proud to call Rachel Berry your friend now.

She slips her arms around your waist and hugs you from the side. "Do you want me to wash that blanket on the bed for you?"

You quickly shake your head, "No. I…"

"I get it," she continues to hold you around the waist, "The one night I slept without Quinn, I wore one of her shirts to bed so I could feel her there." She pulls back, "It'll get better Santana."

"I don't think so," you huff, "I don't know if I want it to get better." You set your fork down and look down at the hands in your lap.

"Why don't you go upstairs and lay down?" Rachel asks softly, "I'll clean this up."

You numbly nod and make your way up to the room. You can hear Quinn still in the shower so you fall onto the bed and pull the blanket around you, bringing it up to your nose and inhaling deeply. There are so many memories in that house. So many kisses and caresses. So much love. You pull it tighter around you as the first tears slides down your cheek.


	10. Words Meet Heartbeats by Parachute

"How come you're so much….not as intoxicated as me?" she asks. Her arms are draped over your shoulders, her shoes dangling in her hand. She was having trouble walking so you offered a piggyback ride.

"I have a higher tolerance than you," you reply.

Her chin is resting on your shoulder and her head leaning on yours. "Wha's sex like?"

You have to admit you're a little surprised by that question, "What do you mean?"

"Wha's the big deal?" she slurs, "The guy puts his…thing or the girl puts her fingers in your…place," She's gesturing with her hand and almost hits you in the face with her shoes a couple times, "It doesn't matter to me I don't judge…whatever tickles your boat…wait I don't think that was right…" You're almost sure she's a sleep before she asks again, "What's sex like?"

You take a deep breath. You're no expert, but you guess compared to Rachel you sort of are. "It was…Puck was gentle about it so it wasn't completely horrible I guess."

"Did he take care of you first?" she asks, her lips brushing against your ear.

You take a second to gather yourself after that question. You know that Rachel is blunt and usually to the point, but this is a whole other level of openness. You stutter for a second before she giggles and tells you that you don't have to say anything.

She lays her head down on your shoulder and lets out a content sigh, "Where was Santana?"

"She decided to stay home and study," you answer, readjusting your hold on the back of her thighs so you don't drop her.

Rachel lets out a content sigh, "Good for her."

If you really thought that Santana was studying you'd have the same sentiment, but you're pretty sure she just wanted to drink alone. Luckily, Rachel's dads are letting you spend the night at Santana's because of an early Cheerio practice in the morning. Rachel doesn't have to be at the practice, but she hasn't missed one since the beginning of the school year. She sits in the bleachers and reads a book for the most part. Sometimes you catch her looking at you and you send her a smile.

When you get the Santana's house your quads are burning like mad. Rachel may be light but you're still sort of tipsy and Coach Sylvester had you doing gassers for almost an hour today at practice.

You easily slide her down your back and sent her gently on her feet. She takes your hand and opens the unlocked front door. When you get inside, you find Santana sitting at her kitchen table all kinds of papers spread before her.

"You're really studying?" you ask her, leaning on Rachel a little.

Santana looks up, "No. I'm looking at colleges." She closes a book and tosses a paper down. She looks stressed, "How was the party?"

You just shrug. Rachel's already moving toward the table looking over some of the things Santana has been looking at. "Where do you want to go?"

Santana shrugs, "I just want to get out of here. New York, California, Florida…whatever. Just out of Ohio."

"New York is it for me," Rachel states, "I don't care if I have to go to the community college. I will be in New York."

Well, that settles it in your mind. If your mom ever gets out of her coma, you're going to New York. Hell, even if your mom isn't out of her coma, you'll bring her with you. Maybe you could even go to college yourself. It's not something you've thought about for a while.

"Where are you going Q?" Santana asks, stacking up all the papers and placing them on top of a variety of books.

You've never really thought about it and now you're intimidated by Santana's surprising and extensive research as well as Rachel's single-mindedness. You exhale and shrug, "New York."

Rachel hugs you around your waist. "C'mon ladies. We have practice in the morning."

You glance at Santana to see if she has anything snarky to say, but she just gives you a lazy smile and tells Rachel, "Yes mom."

Rachel giggles before you all ascend to the bedrooms for the night.

After morning practice the next day you feel beat down. Rachel has packed water bottles and protein bars for you and Santana. You're starting to get a little jealous of Santana. She's encroaching on your Rachel territory. But you scold yourself for that because Rachel's not territory and Santana is a hot mess. Every time that Brittany looks her way she falls apart.

Santana is sipping on her water as you three walk through the hallway. You're both flanking Rachel like she's the head Cheerio. At this point she might as well be. She's basically the charge of both of the top dogs in this school so she might as well be running this thing.

"So this glee thing we're doing today," Santana says, "What is it?"

"Another round of duets," Rachel answers, "Randomly selected out of a hat along with the song."

Santana takes a bite out of her protein bar and says, "I'm praying for Mercedes."

"Of course you are," Mercedes abandons her locker that the lot of you just walked past and joins your march to first period. "For what though?"

"Duets," Santana answers, "I'm thinking Mariah."

Mercedes laughs and high fives her, "Let's do it."

"Wanna hit the drive thru at lunch?" Santana asks as she and Mercedes peel off to go to their first class.

You're left with Rachel and she smiles at you, looping her arm through yours, "Who is your ideal duet partner? Excluding me of course. Everyone wants to sing with me."

You laugh and start thinking through your fellow gleemates. Santana and Mercedes always drown you out. Brittany's on your not happy list so she's out. Come to think of it Kurt drowns you out as well. So, "Puck or Tina."

Rachel's face scrunches like it does when she's thinking hard and she nod, "You should sing with Noah. When blended together your voices are extremely pleasing."

You just nod and follow her to class.

"Quinn?" Mr. Schue calls shaking the hat in his hand when you get to glee. You knew you shouldn't have sat on the front row.

You stand up and walk to the hat. You don't pause or put off the tension. You don't want to be pair with approximately seventy percent of the people in this club so you're just going to get it over with. You jam your hand into the hat and a piece of paper gives you a tiny cut on your finger. If you announced that, Santana would claim that the piece of paper was the one with her name on it.

Your fingers close around a slip of paper that was on the bottom and off to the side. When you pull it out and look at it you read Finn's name. You feel so much relief. He was on your neutral list.

However, your friends don't fare so well. Brittany goes after you and draws out Rachel and Santana looks murderous when she picks out Artie's name. Mr. Schue randomly assigns songs and has everyone split up to rehearse.

Santana and Artie take off for the auditorium, Santana stalking out the door and Artie rolling hesitantly behind her. You don't think that it's a good idea to leave them alone for any amount of time. Both for Artie's life and Santana's criminal record.

You look over at Rachel who shrugs helplessly. She's right though. She can't go because taking her partner into that group is taking matches to the fireworks.

It doesn't take much to coerce Finn into practicing your horribly ancient song in the auditorium. He follows you into the house of the auditorium and you stand in the aisle looking to the stage where Santana and Artie and looking at the sheet music and pointing at different places. They actually look like they're working together.

Finn turns to you, "Do you want to go to the back or something?"

You nod, but keep your eyes on Santana, "Sure." There's something off about her and you want to be on your toes when her eyes go black and she tackles Artie out of his chair.

As you walk away you hear Artie ask Santana if she was okay after the other night with the cop. You stop and turn around, watching to see Santana's reaction. She nods and exhales, "Sorry, I ruined whatever you were doing."

"Oh I was just fixing Brittany's computer," he says, "She got a virus."

An "Oh," escapes you and Santana at the same time. She glances at you and turns back to Artie.

He adds, "We're not together."

Santana's eyes return to you and she looks absolutely lost. She had someone besides Brittany to blame and now all the blame falls in one place. You can only imagine how much that hurts.

Santana lets out a shaky breath and nods. Her face becomes stone, "Okay so this song.."

"What's going on?" Finn asks as you both walk to the back of the auditorium and take a seat.

"Just Santana and Brittany stuff," you shrug it off, taking the first good look at your song.

Finn puts his hands on his knees, "I thought that after last year they'd be okay."

You nod, "Yeah, I think Santana thought that too."

He pauses the way he does when he's debating whether or not to say anything, "How's Rachel?"

"What?" you're caught on your heels with this question.

"I haven't seen her in a while outside of class and she's…" he pauses, "Quieter."

You furrow your eyebrows, "She's okay, I think."

He rubs the back of his neck, "Are you okay? Like do you need anything? I can mow your lawn or whatever. I can get Puck to clean your pool."

"Is my law bad?" you ask. Honestly when you go to your house to drop off food from your mom, you don't see anything but doors. Front door, kitchen door, bedroom door, kitchen door, front door.

"Uh, can you do it tomorrow afternoon? Then I'll take you guys to dinner."

"You don't have to," he shakes his head.

"I want to. I feel like I'm taking up all of Rachel's time. I want her to socialize and stuff and not feel bad about it," you confess.

Finn seems to understand because he nods. "Cool. I'll talk to Puck after practice."

You lean back in your chair and put your feet up on the seat in front of you, "I wanna do something really nice for her. Do you want to help?"

"Sure," he nods, "Like what?"

Once practice is over, you and Rachel make your way back to your house. Santana stays late to practice with Artie, which still leaves you uneasy.

You and Rachel are sitting in your room, doing your homework as per your usual routine. You tap your pen on your book and watch Rachel for a few moments. She's working on her computer, making some kind of presentation. You watch as she mouths the words on the slide before consulting some notes on the desk.

"Are you happy?" you blurt out. Way to go brain to mouth filter.

She swivels around in her chair and looks at you, confused, "What?"

You can't pretend like you didn't ask now. You know that's her 'what, why are you asking that' instead of her 'what, I didn't hear you.' "Are you happy? Finn wanted to know how you are and I realized that I don't know for sure."

She stands from her chair and walks over to the bed. As she sits, her hand slips into your hair. "I'm happy Quinn. Gloriously so," she says with a content smile that you'll never get enough of. "Why would you ever think otherwise?"

"I just…you put your boyfriend on hold for me," you explain, "You put everything on hold for me. You don't have a social life and you're pretty much babysitting you all day."

"First of all," she ruffles your hair, "I never had much of a social life to begin with. And secondly, I'm not babysitting you. I believe the correct colloquialism is hanging out."

You lean into her fingers loving the feel of her fingers massaging your scalp. She seems to know because she doesn't stop. "Well, Finn and Puck are going to mow the yard at….my house," you always hesitate to call it your house. The Berry house feels more like a home than that house ever did. "And Puck's going to clean the pool. Then I'm going to take them to dinner. I was hoping that you'd come."

She eyes you suspiciously, "Did Finn put you up to this?"

You shake your head, "No this was all my idea. I wanted you to be able to hang out with people who aren't emotionally crippled and as fun as Santana and I make your life, maybe you want some kind of…normal."

She stops stroking your hair and lays down on the bed. She opens her arms to you and you crawl into them, feeling comfort in her embrace. "Quinn, just in case you haven't been paying attention since we've known each other, my life is never any kind of normal. I thoroughly enjoy having you and even Santana hanging around with me. Especially you though. Don't tell Santana."

You giggle and adjust your head on her shoulder. When you close her eyes and breathe, you suddenly feel so tired.

But you have something to do before you go to sleep. "I gotta go check on my mom."

She nods and lets go when you sit up. Then she stands with you and slips her shoes back on. You turn to her and tell her that she doesn't have to come. She just smiles at you like she always does and follows you out to the car.

When you get to your house, you have her sit on the couch like you always do because she's started insisting to come in. Especially after the one time she broke down crying in the hallway and were inside for twenty minutes before she came in after you.

But this time, as you walk down the hallway to your mom's room you hear something over the TV. You furrow your eyebrows and run your hand over the smooth wood of the door as you push it open. Your knees almost give out when you see the bed is empty. You know that last time this happened she moved to the couch for the night, but was right back in her bed the next day. Except today, Rachel is on the couch and the bed is empty. And you hear the shower running.

You don't know what do with yourself. You just shuffle to the bed and sit down on the edge of with your hands in your lap. You're going to wait here until she gets out of the shower just to makes sure that she does get out of the shower. It pains you to think about it, but you have thought about it before. Long before you thought Santana could do something drastic and irreversible over losing Brittany, you thought that your mom would do it over losing your sister. So you're going to sit here and wait until the shower turns off. You're going to wait to know what she's alive.

Tears cloud your eyes as your knees bounce under your elbows. You incessantly run your fingers through your hair and your eyes dart around the room. There's a soap opera droning away on the TV. The curtains are still closed. The sheets on the bed are still unmade. You look to the nightstand and find that the plates you brought in last time are there. More food is missing than is usually is, but you're not sure what to make of it. It just freaks you out so much more. You stand up and are about to run out of the room straight into Rachel's arm when you hear the shower wrench off.

A sob escapes you. You've never been more relieved in your life. You fall back into a seated position on the bed because your legs can't support you anymore.

You hear light hurried footsteps padding toward the bedroom on the thick carpet. Rachel blows into the room, her hair a comet tail waving behind her. She's immediately seated next to you, slipping her arms around your waist.

"What's wrong?" she whispers, pressing her forehead against your temple.

You sniffle and wipe your face as you shake her head. Nothing is wrong. Not for the moment because, "She's alive."

Rachel pulls her head back and looks at the bed. Then her eyes wander to the open bathroom door. It takes a moment but it clicks for her. With a gently kiss to your head she breathes and a sigh of relief next to you.

"Quinn?"

Your heart stops cold before beating faster than you ever thought possible. When you shakily turn, your mom is standing in the doorway of the bathroom. She's wearing a fluffy pink robe. It makes her look bigger, fuller than she actually is, but it doesn't hide her sunken in face or her frail bony hands.

You honestly don't know what to do at this point. You want to hug your mom, but you're scared that you'll break her. Then again you don't know if she's the same person she was before. You highly doubt it.

She comes and sits down on the side of her bed, perpendicular to you and Rachel. Both of your head are turns to face over your lefts shoulders to watch her. Her hair is still damp, hanging around her shoulders, dull and lifeless. She looks sort of like a zombie this close. Her eyes look hollow like she doesn't see you. Just a fuzzy outline of you.

And just for a second, they become clear. Her eyes trace our face and she holds your eyes in an intense gaze as she mumbles, "I'm sorry."

Tears continue to trickle out of your eyes because her eyes cloud over and she pulls her feet into the bed and covers herself to the chin with blankets. Her hand reaches out from under the covers to retrieve the remote from the nightstand. Then she looks between you and Rachel at the TV, completely oblivious to the world all over again.

You look at Rachel, completely lost and confused. She just stands and pulls you up with her. You're resistant to leave at first, but Rachel gives you a reassuring smile.

She sits you on the couch in the living room and sits on the coffee table facing you. When she leans forward her knees brush against yours. She lightly takes your hands after she runs the fingers of her left hand to get your bangs out of your face.

"I didn't want to tell you this immediately because I didn't want you to get your hopes up, but I think that seeing what I just saw in there, even though it wasn't significant gives cause for hope," she pauses to make sure you're listening. You nod to spur her on. You want to know what's going on. "Your mother has been seeing a psychotherapist everyday for about two weeks now."

"How?" you ask. It's perplexing how that could happen without your knowledge. "She doesn't leave the house."

"The therapist comes here and talks to her," Rachel nods, her eyes raking your face for any kind of emotions, "For about two hours every day usually in the late mornings."

You take a moment to process this new information. Then you ask her how she pulled it off. She rubs her thumbs over your knuckles and lets out a smile, "I'm sneaky like that."

You smile back at this. You don't even have to ask why. You know why she did it. She did it for the same reason she does everything else these days. She did it for you.

You slip into an overpowering emotion and surge forward. When your lips crash against Rachel's your whole body flushes. Then your muscles relax and you sigh against her lips.

But when it registers what you just did, you snap back and stare wide eyed at her. You don't know what she's going to say or do or if she's going to freak the hell out because you are freaking the hell out right now.

She just smiles sweetly at you and you're even more confused. She stands and offers you her hands to pull you up with her. You tentatively take them and when you're standing with her she takes your hand like she always does and leads the way out the door, saying something about what her dads are making for dinner.


	11. Black Sheep by Metric

She kissed you. She _kissed_ you. Quinn kissed you. On the lips. And she wasn't drunk and you're ninety-eight percent sure you weren't dreaming.

"You called me over here to watch you wear out this hideous rug and mumble to yourself?"

Your head whips over to the bed. You forgot Santana was here. She's sitting against the headboard, her tan legs straightened and crossed at the ankles in front of her. She's filing her nails and when you look at the clock you feel like a terrible hostess because she's been sitting in silence with you for seven minutes.

You take a calming breath and close your eyes in preparation to tell her what happened. When you close your eyes you can see it happening again and feel her lips brush against yours once more. Finally you exhale and open your eyes, "Quinn kissed me."

Santana doesn't react like you expect. Her eyes narrow in thought instead of widening in shock. Her mouth doesn't drop open, instead pressing in a tight line across hr face. After a moment she asks, "What did you do?"

You shake your head and start pacing again. "Nothing. Nothing at all. I just asked her if she was ready to go and we left. She hasn't said anything about it and I'm not about to bring it up." You silence the rest of your thoughts about your uncertainty that your reaction was the right one. Because maybe she's waiting on you to bring it up or maybe she's hurt by your lack of a reaction. You have to take another deep breath or you'll run out the door and track Quinn down wherever she went and….stand awkwardly in front of her debating with yourself on what to say until she says something or freaks out. No that's a terrible idea. You'll just…talk to Santana for a while.

Santana nods approvingly, "If something does happen she needs to start it."

You stop in your tracks and pivot on your heel to look right at Santana. You bite your lip and look down at the rug under your bare feet. Dare you think it or dream it? You've never been this uncertain about anything before in your entire life. "Do you think there could be…" your eyes look up at Santana through your lashes, your head still tilted down, "Something?"

You can tell that Santana is biting the inside of her cheek. She does that when she's thinking really hard and you've lectured her on the damages she could do occasionally, but now you can't find it in you to say anything about it. Because you need to know what she's thinking. You think that she knows Quinn better than you do and she's known her for longer. They've been close since they met although it may not have looked it to the outside world. You need to know what she's thinking before your nervous foot tapping extends to your whole body.

"I think," she pauses, "I think that there could be. But don't get all excited. Quinn's still a mess." She resumes filing her nails, "And if I catch you trying to put the moves on her I will cut you. Understood?"

You nod, "Of course. I would never do anything like that."

You see a hint of a smile on Santana's face, but she successfully squashes it down into a look of indifference. You glance at the clock and you start to worry about Quinn. You don't know where she went and she hasn't called or texted you in…well it's only been about thirty minutes, but you're still worried. You tap your leg four times and finally ask, "Do you want to go get some coffee?"

"This was just an excuse for you to troll the streets and look for Quinn isn't it?" Santana asks between sips of her red-eye. You feel like you should tell her that if she ever wants to sleep in the next twenty-four hours she should stop drinking that right now.

Your eyes scan the street where the Fabray house is. Her car isn't there. You're a little relieved. "I just want to check on her."

Santana sighs and picks up her phone off of her lap. After tapping it twice she puts the phone to her ear, "Yo bitch. Where are you?…Ew Quinn that's gross…I know it's for glee but still…Whatever. Come over to my house when you're done. Me and Rachel are going to watch a movie….yeah she's here. Later." She drops her phone into her lap and says, "Quinn's practicing with Finn. She'll be over in a few. We're going to my house to watch a movie. Okay?"

You could hear the confidence deteriorate as she spoke. You know that she hates to be alone and though your fathers had told her that the guest room is all hers, she won't completely move in like Quinn did. She's far too proud for that. So she tries to get you and Quinn to stay at her house a little longer each night by telling you that since you watched that movie you have to watch the sequel that's way better or by taking you both out for a late night snack. If you hadn't actually seen them once or twice you'd be sure that Santana's parents were made up for the sake of saving face.

"Of course," you nod and turn left on the next street to make your way to Santana's house.

When you get there though, you both encounter a bouquet of flowers on the front porch. You recognize them as gardenias and there's a small lilac colored envelope stuck between the flowers. You have a sinking feeling as to who they're from.

Santana sighs and picks them up, not bothering with the card. It seems she knows too. As she slides the key into the front door, Santana adds, "Do you know who owns the flower shop across town?"

You shake your head. "No idea."

Santana pulls her key out of the lock and opens the door, pushing it open so that you can go in first. "Brittany's dad."

"Oh," you say quietly and when you walk inside you can see why she felt the need to explain it. Through the doorway to the living room you can see that it's covered in flowers. Some white, some purple, some red. All entirely stunning.

You see a pillow on one end of the couch and a blanket snaked across the rest of it. Santana quickly throws both of them onto the armchair in the room like she's embarrassed.

Then Santana continues in a practiced emotionless voice. "You know flowers all mean something." She walks through the living room and pointing out the flowers, "I'm sorry. I love you. Beauty. Eternal love. Please forgive me. And," she gestures to the flowers in her arm, "Secret love." Then she sets them down next to a vase of the most stunning purple flowers you've ever seen.

You don't know what to say. You think if anyone would have done this for you, you'd completely melt, but you don't think there are enough flowers in the world to fix what Brittany broke. "Do you want me to…help you get rid of them?"

She sadly shakes her head, "I like them. As masochistic as that is right?"

You nod. You have to admit that it is beautiful in the room now. The menagerie of flowers everywhere. You can imagine miniature versions of Santana and Brittany playing tag in the flower shop when they were little. Santana's eyes peek through the tiger lilies as Brittany runs lawlessly around, looking for her. You find it utterly depressing that you can picture them together in all stages of life even though they're not together in the current stage.

The smell in the room reminds you of when your dads would take you to the botanical gardens. It smells whimsical. It brings a small smile to your lips despite the fact that the reason they're here is sad.

"If you think yours dads will like any of them, you can take some home," Santana falls back on the couch and picks up the remote that's hiding between two overflowing vases.

You don't like it when your friends are sad so when you sit next to her, you pull her into a hug. She deflates into you, letting out a heartbreaking sigh. Tomorrow at school, when you and Brittany are practicing for glee, you're going to have a few words with her. Last time she just kinda stared at the floor and mumbled the words to the song before you left to make sure Artie wasn't in an ambulance and Santana in the back of a police car.

You and Santana sit like that until Quinn arrives. She walks into the front door without announcement and stops in the living room doorway. She looks questioningly around. "Are you two having like a date or something?"

You can see the flash of jealously mixed with the confusion in her eyes. That gives you a little hope. You just smile at her and open your free arm to her. She starts walking to you like you're a magnet and sinks onto the couch, falling into your arm. Now you have a Cheerio on each side of you, their heads on your shoulders and your arms around their waists.

"How was Finnocence?" Santana asks.

Quinn just groans. You feel like you should say something. He is technically your boyfriend after all. Well not so much after tomorrow. You can't keep him waiting when someone else could be there for him like you can't.

"I'm going to Artie's house tomorrow after school," Santana sighs. You still don't see that as such a good thing for either of them. Hopefully his parents will be home.

Quinn adjusts her head on your shoulders and you place a kiss on the top of her head once she settles. It's only after the fact that you realize that you actually did it. You hold your breath for a moment in case she says something about it. But after you've counted to a hundred, she hasn't said anything and you exhale.

Halfway through the movie, Santana gets up and use the bathroom. Quinn scoots closer to you and slips both of her arms around you, her eyes saying on the TV the entire time, "Are all these from Brittany?"

You nod, "Yeah." You sweep your fingers through her hair and smile a little at the blonde roots peeking through. "I'm going to talk to her tomorrow."

"What are you going to say?" Quinn asks quietly in case Santana is in earshot of a normal conversational voice.

You shrug, "I'll probably ask her why she broke up with Santana and then what she wants with her. If either answer is a lie then I'll…" you don't want to say that you're going to encourage Santana to move on, but that's probably what you'll have to do.

Quinn just nods, understanding what you're saying without you having to say it. She yawns and holds you a little tighter. These are the telltale signs of Quinn ready for bed. You look around for Santana and wonder where she is. You hate to leave her, but you know she won't come home with you.

"You ready to go home?" you ask Quinn against her hair.

She nods and stands up, pulling you up with her. Quinn literally runs into Santana in the living room doorway. Santana's knee-jerk reaction is, "Watch out!" and Quinn's is "You watch out!"

You jump between them, confident that neither one of them would hurt you in the process of trying to hurt each other. As fast as the anger rises, it falls and Santana runs a hand through her hair and kicks at the doorframe, "Are you guys leaving?"

You look at Quinn who looks like she feels guilty for doing so. Then you look at Santana. All the makeup is gone away from her face. You don't know if that was just part of her normal before bed routine or if she had to wash it away because she was crying. It's so much harder to tell with Santana. "You can come with us."

Santana shakes her head, "No. I'm cool here. Um, thanks though."

You take your car keys out of your pocket, "Do you want to just take my car for tomorrow or do you want to come back with us and get your car?"

She shakes her head and lightly lifts the keys out of your hand, "I'll get it tomorrow. No big."

Next to you, Quinn's hand flinches in yours. You know what she wants to do and what you have to do for her to do it. You let go of her hand and pull Santana into a hug. Then you step back and Quinn steps up for her hug. A faint smile graces your lips. You love it when both of these very closed off girls can show affection to each other like that.

On the way home, Quinn keeps looking out the window. You wonder what she's looking for, but since you're driving you can't look too. "Quinn?"

She looks over at you and slips her hand under your waiting one on the console, "Huh?"

"Are you okay?" you ask. You feel like you're asking her that all the time, but you're never really sure unless you hear her say it.

She nods, "I'm just tired. It's been a long day."

"I know," you squeeze her hand, "Do you want to take a bath when we get back or just go to bed?"

"A bath sounds really nice," she sighs contently in her seat.

"Are you going back over to Finn's tomorrow after school?" you ask her. You're a little jealous when she goes over there. Today you managed to bite your tongue. Tomorrow you may end up going with her just to make sure he doesn't do anything that you'd deem as coming onto her. Not that you think Finn would do that. It's just that you get irrational in all matters concerning Quinn, especially her interaction with guys.

Quinn shakes her head, "No, he and Puck are going to my house to mow the lawn and take care of the pool, remember?"

"Oh yeah," you bite your lip. You can't make that awkward by breaking up with Finn tomorrow. Maybe you could do it the day after. You really don't want to turn something nice that Quinn's doing for you into a drama filled episode of your life. "Thanks for that by the way."

She shrugs it off and looks back out the window.

The next day, you have a very awkward lunch rehearsal with Brittany who keeps trying to ask how Santana is in a roundabout way that it takes you a few minutes to actually figure out what she's talking about. The rest of school is routine. Lecture, notes, walking down the hallway and having everyone get out of your way.

Then you drive Quinn back to her house where Finn and Noah are already to work. Finn is in the front yard, pushing the mower around in a big square and Noah is carrying supplies from his truck to the back of the house.

Finn smiles when you two walk up, "Hey."

"Hey," you smile back.

"So, um did you want me to do the hedges too?" he asks Quinn, "Like taller or shorter?"

Quinn looks at the house and you see a familiar glaze take over her eyes. She's already wondering what's going on in the house. What her mom's doing? Still in bed or is she moving around? You put your hand on her back and start to guide her toward the house. "Why don't you do them tall? It'll balance with the windows."

He nods and starts the lawn mower again. You continue walking Quinn inside and shut the door against the noises of the boys working. Her hand slips into yours, her fingers gripping yours tightly. It makes you a little uncomfortable, but you've gotten used to taking a little pain to comfort Quinn. A sore muscle while you're laying in bed, a pinched nerve while you're sitting next to each other at a table as school when her head is on your shoulder, it's all of no importance to you.

You look at her face to try to get some idea of how she's feeling. You can see the nervousness all over her face, but this time it's woven into something you haven't see in her in a while. Hope.

She starts to walk toward her mom's bedroom, slowly taking each step. You stay with her, a half step behind, but you keep her hand firmly in yours.

In the darkened bedroom, you can see that Judy is still in bed, but there has been a drastic change. The TV is off and she's asleep with an open book laying across her chest. You look at Quinn who has the faintest of smiles on her face and tears in her eyes. You wonder if she's going to wake her mother up in an attempt to talk to her, but you get your answer when Quinn pulls you back out of the room.

She doesn't say anything and you don't push her. You like the light smile on her face. You both make your way to the backyard where Noah is vacuuming the bottom of the pool. Of course he's shirtless. It's not like you really expected anything else.

He hitches his chin to you both and you sit down in the pool chairs to watch him. A few minutes later, Finn has made his way into the back with the lawn mower. You feel like you should help them, but you have no idea how to actually go about doing that. Power tools and the like were never your thing. The closest you ever go to operating something like that is a microphone. They look like they're doing fine on their own anyway.

You both lay back on the lounge chairs and hold hands between them. Quinn's eyes are gracing the sky. You shake her hand after a while and ask her what she's thinking. She gives you a lazy smile and her eyes hold yours. "Jenny and I used to look at the clouds when we were little and make shapes out of them when our parents would fight. Or at night we'd look at the stars." She shakes her head and looks back up at the sky, "She always came up with the weirdest shapes and now I can't think of any. I was always so bad at making my own."

"I just think you're out of practice," you run your thumb over her knuckles.

She looks at you with a wide smile on her face. She just looks at you for a few minutes, smiling and holding your hand. You're perfectly content to just look back. You could look into her eyes forever and never be sated.

Finally she bites her lip and looks up to the sky, "What does that cloud look like Rach?"

You turn your eyes toward the heavens and look at the cloud she's looking at. You chuckle at your first reaction. She asks you what you're laughing at and you tell her that it looks like a Tony Award. She laughs at you and you chuckle, "Okay, okay…um…" You tilt your head to the side and it starts to take a familiar shape. "It looks like a wild horse."

You look over at Quinn who tilts her head as well. After a minutes she nods, "I can see it."

You both look at the clouds for another half an hour as the sun starts to set. The sky is painted with brilliant pinks and oranges and when you look at Quinn she looks like she's glowing.

Just looking at her right here, right now solidifies your feelings for her. It's not a protective instinct. It's not pity. It's not anything, but love. You love her and you're in love with her. One hundred percent head over heels for your former and now present best friend.

After the boys are done, they both take turns using Quinn's shower and change into some extra clothes they bought. Then you drive them all in Quinn's car to Breadstix. Noah asks why you're driving Quinn's car and you just give him a pointed glare in the rearview mirror. You know that Quinn is sensitive about her reluctance to drive after her sister's death and you don't need it brought up tonight.

When you get to the restaurant you run into Brittany who is sitting on the bench by the To-Go counter. She's sitting with her head down and her arms crossed. Quinn tries to pull you right past her, but you resist. She looks at you with the stern look of 'don't talk to her', but you manage to plead with your eyes. Quinn sighs and lets go of your hands, leading Noah and Finn to the table.

You lightly sit down next to Brittany and she looks up. With a heavy sigh she acknowledges you, "Oh hey."

"What are you doing here?" you ask her softly.

She fiddles with the keys in her hand, "My mom said that she's worried that Santana's not eating so she sent me to get her something to eat. I got her a bunch of breadsticks because those are her favorite. Don't worry I'm not going to try to talk to her. I'll just leave it on the porch and ring the doorbell."

You want to say something to make her stop trying to win Santana back and at the same time you want to say something to make her try harder. You don't like it when Santana is miserable and she's miserable right now. You just don't know what to do to help.

"Do you want me to go check on her after we eat dinner?" you ask her.

Brittany nods, sitting up straighter, "Can you text me after you do? Let me know?"

You nod and stand. With an incredibly awkward pat on the shoulder you join Quinn and the boys in a booth. You slide in next to Quinn and her hand immediately seeks yours out under the table.

You order a salad with a balsamic vinaigrette and Quinn orders much the same with you even though you assure her that she can have anything she wants and you won't be offended. The boys both get some cheese covered meat things. They conversation really centers on school and doesn't venture far from glee or football. The guys have a game, which Quinn is going to cheer at. You'll be in the stands just like always listening to your Broadway's greatest female solos playlist and trying hard to make it look like you know what's going on and you're actually playing attention.

Then it happens. As you're driving back to the house, you feel the tickle in the back of your throat. A soft cough comes from your mouth and suddenly all eyes are on you.

"Are you okay?" Quinn asks.

Finn is leaning forward between the two front seats and you can see Noah's eyes on you in the rearview mirror.

You nod, "It was just a cough. Too much pepper my salad or something."

Quinn narrows her eyes at you, but turns back toward the road. They all have good reason to be suspicious. You never get sick. That includes coughs and sneezes. You have been sort of neglecting your daily vitamin routine because of more important matters, but that shouldn't open up a window for you to get sick. However, after you drop of the boys at their trucks and you pull to a stop in front of Santana's house you have a splitting headache. Instead of the usual hand holding, Quinn puts her whole arm around your shoulders guiding you inside.

"You okay lil Streisand?" Santana asks.

Apparently you look worse than you feel but it only takes a few minutes for your feelings to catch up to your looks. You lay on the couch in the middle of all the flowers on Santana's pillow with her blanket draped over you. Quinn and Santana are gone. Probably to the kitchen or something to talk. You want to get up and assure them that you're fine, but when you try to sit up you get dizzy and lay back down.

You open your mouth to call Quinn, but only a fit of coughing comes out. It burns your throat and feels like you coughing up sandpaper. It was effective in summoning Quinn though. She's knelt down next to you with Santana hovering behind her.

"We're going to take you home okay?" Quinn asks softly with a tender smile.

You nod slowly. You feel woozy. It feels like you're in a dream as you watch the darkened house pass by. It's kind of like being drunk, but it hurts so much more. You feel someone stroking your hair away from your face. When you look over you see Quinn looking worriedly at you. It takes you a minute to realize that you're in the backseat of Santana's car, with Santana driving.

Upon arrival at your house, your dads are waiting on the porch. They rush to the car to help Santana and Quinn get you inside and into bed. Santana announces that she's going to go get you some medicine and crackers. Daddy goes with her and Dad lingers in the doorway before going downstairs to get a thermometer.

"I'm fine," you mumble, "Really."

Quinn smiles softly at you and walks over to your dresser. She gets out some sleeping shorts and a tank top. "You're not fine."

"I am," you try to stomp your foot, but it doesn't really make it off of the ground.

She just laughs and helps you sit up, "C'mon you have to change before you get into bed." She stands in front of you, between your legs and despite your sickness, you're stunned by her proximity. "I'm going to take your shirt off okay?"

You slowly nod. You'd dreamed of this for months. Well maybe not months and maybe not this exact situation, but still Quinn is slowly and gently pulling your shirt off over your head. You feel exposed when it's off even though you're wearing a bra. She looks down at you, "Rach, bra on or off?"

You're a little stumped by this question. You really want it off so you can sleep comfortably, but you're not sure about Quinn taking it off for you. "Um…"

She grins, "How about you put this shirt on and I'll take your bra off under it? So I don't see anything you don't want me to."

You nod quickly and make yourself nauseous. So when she pulls the shirt over your head, you sit completely still so you don't throw up all over her. She's being so sweet and gentle about everything. Her fingertips are cold against your flaming hot skin and it makes you shiver.

When she leans forward to unhook your bra, her lips are a breath away from yours. You try to keep your hormones in check because if you kiss her not only may she flip out, you may get her sick.

After a little wrangling she gets your bra off and has you lay down so she can take off your pants. Then she tucks you into the bed just in time for Dad to arrive with the thermometer. He tells you that you have a hundred and one fever.

When Santana and Daddy get back, they give you two pills to swallow before you lay in your bed. You fight off the pills and your sickness long enough to make sure Quinn is in bed with you before you allow them both to overtake you.


	12. Take Care by Beach House

You're a little (a lot) reluctant to leave Rachel at home, but she, in her drowsy voice, and her dad, in his parental voice, tell you that she'll be fine and that you need to go to school. She tells you that she's probably just going to sleep all day and she'll be fine tomorrow.

You linger longer than necessary and listen to Santana finish getting ready in the guest bathroom from you spot in the doorway of Rachel's room.

"Go to school," you hear Rachel groan from the bed.

"I'm waiting for Santana," you tell her and walk to the bed, sitting down on your side of the bed next to Rachel's legs. You rest your hand on the side of her knee , "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

She chuckles, which turns into a cough that worries you. When she's done, she smiles up at you with sleepy eyes, "It's just a cold. I'll be fine." She picks up her phone off of the blanket next to her, "I have my phone. I'll text you if I need you."

"Promise?" you ask her.

She nods, "Promise."

You check the doorway to make sure that Santana isn't standing there before you dip down and kiss her forehead, "We'll be back at lunch."

A smile crossed her face under closed eyes, "Thank you Quinn."

"C'mon Q," Santana walks into the room and grabs her purse off of the floor next to the computer chair where she pretty much camped out until three a.m. when you and Rachel's dad forced her into the guestroom for some real sleep.

You get up off of the bed and Santana stands at the foot of the bed, her knees hitting the mattress, "What kind of soup do you want for lunch?"

"I don't think I'll want to eat," Rachel rolls onto her back to look fully at Santana.

"Well we're going to get it anyway," Santana crosses her arms trying to look menacing, but failing because of the concerned look on her face, "So you might as well pick one you want."

Rachel smiles, "Miso soup would be great."

Santana nods and walks out the door. You give Rachel one last smile before following Santana throwing, "Feel better," over your shoulder.

As you get into the car, Santana asks you what the hell miso soup is.

You tap your pen on the desk incessantly. Even though Santana has glared at you enough times that you get the hint, you're anxious. You want to get back home to check on Rachel.

"Chill the fuck out," Santana hisses, "We'll go check on her third period. If something was wrong she would have texted you by now."

That reminds you to check your phone. You pick it up and press the unlock button, but you don't have any new messages. You set it back down just in time to see Mr. Schue looking at you with a disapproving frown. You almost care. You set your phone down face up on your desk in a dare.

Of course he backs down. You're the sad girl with no family. He'd feel bad disciplining you. The only discipline you get is from your dads. Not that you'd admit out loud that you thought of Rachel's dads are your dads too. They took you in. After a while they gave you chores and household duties. They gave you a curfew on weekdays.

Mr. Schue's voice cuts through your thoughts, "Yes Santana?"

"Can I go to the bathroom?" she asks, her phone in her hand.

You look at her and wonder if she got a text from Rachel that you didn't and now she's going to return the call.

"If you ask in Spanish," Mr. Schue leans back on his desk with his arms crossed.

Santana rolls her eyes and asks in the most broken, illiterate, heavily American accented Spanish that she can. Mr. Schue sighs in exasperation and motions her out the door.

You quickly raise your hand, "I have a headache. Can I go to the nurse?"

Mr. Schue just nods and moves to sit behind his desk while the rest of the class sits quietly with their worksheets. You walk slowly and purposefully out the door before you get to the hallway and run after Santana, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to pee," she quirks an eyebrow, "Do you want to hold my hand?"

"Oh," you feel a little sheepish for jumping the gun, "I thought Rachel texted you."

Santana shakes her head, "She would text you before she would text me. I actually have to pee. I've had like twenty cups of coffee and I'm still beat. I don't know how I'm going to get through practice today."

"We're just practicing our duets right?" you ask as you both continue down the hallway to the Cheerio's locker room.

Santana shrugs, "I guess. I told Artie I'd go over to his house sometime after school this week to practice."

You exhale and push open the locker room open, walking in, in front of Santana. You forgot about your duet partner. You guess you'll have to get with Finn sometime soon to get your song down.

Inside the locker room, you can hear someone moving around toward the back. Santana's head cocks to the side as she completely passes the bathroom stalls and moves toward the sound. You continue walking past the rows of lockers toward the back where the senior Cheerios' lockers are. When you get to the last row, you both see a girl in a Cheerio leaning over, halfway into the locker. The locker door is hiding everything but the back of the girl's legs and her standard issue Cheerio shoes.

You can see Santana's face hardens. It's understandable this time though. It's her locker that the girl is hanging out of. "What the fuck are you doing?"

The girl stands up quickly and hits the back of her head on the top of the locker. A squeaked, "Ow," echoes through the locker room and the girl finally manages to stand up all the way, a hand on the back of her head.

Your eyes shoot to Santana who just stands, frozen with her eyes on Brittany. You shift your weight from one foot to the other before stepping between them, your eyes narrowed at Brittany, "What are you doing?"

Brittany doesn't answer. She just winces and pulls her hand away from the back of her head. Your stomach drops when you see blood. It's not a lot, but it's enough to freak you out and if you're freaking out….you turn around to Santana who's eyes are as wider than you've ever seen them.

"I…Brittany," you says and walk over to her. You turn her around and gently move the hand that is back on the back of her head. You look through her hair and examine the cut. It's not big and it's not long, but you can't be sure how deep it is. Your mind goes blank and you're at a loss for what to do.

However, Santana appears next to you with some wet paper towels. Her voice is shaking when she says, "Let me see." Her hands gently move Brittany's head so that she can get a good look at it. You watch her face as she does so. Her face is an intense concentration as she studies the wound. After pressing the paper towel to the laceration, she looks at you, "Go grab my purse from class. I'm going to take her to the hospital." When Brittany tenses at the mention of the hospital, Santana adds, "It's not that bad and we probably don't need to go. It's just in case."

You nod and run down the hallway. You don't say anything to Mr. Schue as you grab both yours and Santana's stuff and run back out. He follows you into the hallway, "Quinn, where are you going?"

"Brittany hit her head," you call behind you, "We're taking her to the hospital." With that you run back into the locker room, where Santana is supporting Brittany, who looks like she's about to fall asleep.

Santana jams her hand into her purse and extracts her keys. You shove the back door of the locker room open and escort them out. Santana unlocks her car and opens the back door, "Q, you have to drive." She tosses the keys to you and you don't hesitate to run around to the driver's seat.

In the ER you're immediately taken care of because of the blood on the paper towel that Santana's holding to the back of Brittany's head. You stand by the door of the examination room with your arms crossed.

A doctor walks into the room. She looks young and probably new. You don't think you like it. Santana doesn't seem to either. She steps between Brittany and the nurse. "While you go get a grown up doctor, page Lindsey Pierce. Fourth floor Pediatric charge nurse." Santana orders.

The woman looks Santana up and down, clearly intimidated. "I assure you I'm perfectly capable of doing handling this." She sets the chart down on the bed next to Brittany. "And Lindsey Pierce has already been notified and is on her way down." She pulls some latex gloves on and tilts Brittany's head, "Do you feel dizzy?"

"A little," Brittany says. You watch her take Santana's hand and watch Santana lace their fingers together.

You're starting to feel a little dizzy yourself, but not from getting hit on the head. You hear the doctor ask Santana if she's been here lately because she looks familiar. Santana tells her that her dad is a plastic surgeon. You take a deep breath. "Uh, S?" You interrupt them.

Santana looks at you and you struggle to keep your composure, "I'm going to get some…" you swallow to be able to choke out, "air."

She nods and her eyes fall back on Brittany.

You grab your purse and walk toward the outside, down the cold sterile halls of the only hospital in Lima. You feel like the whole building is crushing you as you barely squeeze out of the emergency room doors. You trot down the sidewalk a little ways before sitting down on the curb.

You're right across from the helipad. You remember the day it landed there containing your sister's body. They say that she died on the way here. In the helicopter, thousands of feet in the air, your sister slipped away.

You remember watching the paramedics getting off of the helicopter. They weren't hurrying and you were wondering why. They needed to hurry to save your sister but you didn't know she was already gone.

Your phone buzzes in your hand and you look down at it. Even when she's sick and miles away she knows when you need her. _How's school?_

 _I'm not at school. Brittany hit her head and I'm at the ER with her and Santana._ You send the text and look up at the sky. The clouds that creep over you should have been there when your sister arrived on the helicopter. Instead the sunny sky was out of place. The birds sang and the sun shone in a cloudless sky. You feel your chest get tight with emotions that you thought you were done dealing with.

Your phone vibrates in your hand again, but this time the smiling face of Rachel is looking from the screen up at you. You tap the answer button and put the phone to your ear, "Hey."

"Is Brittany okay?" Rachel asks, her voice still scratchy and tired.

"I think so," you sigh, letting your forehead drop to your knees. "The cut didn't look that bad, but she hit her head really bad."

"How did she do that?"

"Santana and I were in the locker room and we heard someone so we walked to the back and saw Brittany. We didn't know it was her because she was bent over and messing with something in Santana's locker. We didn't know what she was doing or who she was when Santana asked her what the hell she was doing and Brittany stood up really fast and hit her head on the top of the locker," you explain, raising your head to watch the people walk in and out of the emergency room.

You can hear Rachel audibly wince over the phone line. "Do you need me to come up there?"

"No," you tell her, "You need to rest. I should probably go back inside and make sure Santana's not having a panic attack."

"Are you sure I can't come up there?" she asks before a couching spout fills up the line.

"I'm sure," you tell her, "When we leave here, I'll bring you your soup okay?"

"You should bring Brittany here," Rachel offers quietly, her voice not strong enough to talk any louder after coughing like that, "At least until her parents get off of work. Daddy took half a day off of work to stay with me."

"Okay," you nod even though she can't see you, "That sounds like a great idea."

"Let me know when you leave," she says.

"Of course," you tell her, "Feel better."

"I'm trying," you can hear the smile in her voice.

Back inside, Brittany is leaning over a trashcan emptying her stomach contents, while Santana rubs her back and keeps her ponytail out of the way. The doctor is writing on a chart, "I'm going to have to take her to get a CAT scan to see how bad her concussion is."

"I'm okay," Brittany states, wiping off her mouth with a tissue Santana hands her, "I'm okay."

The door opening hits the heels of your shoes and you get out of the way so Brittany's mom can come in. She walks right over to Brittany and looks at her eyes. She extracts a light from her pocket, "How hard did you hit your head honey?"

"She has a concussion," the doctor states from her wheeled stool, "I'm going to take her to get a CAT scan."

Mrs. Pierce ignores the doctor and looks to Santana, "How long ago did she hit her head?"

"It was like fifteen minutes ago," Santana explains, "It stopped bleeding before we got here." She lifts her shaking hand and places it on Brittany's back.

After another hour of waiting for the CAT scan and holding Santana's hand in the waiting room, she's finally released to go. There are no bleeds or permanent damage. She'll be okay as along as she stays awake.

"You can stay here until your dad gets home," Mrs. Pierce tells Brittany.

Santana's eyes dart to you before she says, "Rachel's dad is home because Rachel is sick. We can take her there and watch TV or something. I'll keep her awake, I swear."

Mrs. Pierce smiles fondly at Santana and you know she's going to say yes. Which you like because you have your own girl to take care of and if they're in the same place you can watch over them both.

You stop by a restaurant on the way back to the house to pick up lunch for everyone. You leave Santana and Brittany to the guest bedroom while you bring Rachel her soup. She still looks sad and sick, watching a black and white movie, laying with her arms wrapped around your pillow. She looks up when you walk in and smiles. Her eyes are still heavy and lethargic looking, "Hey, is Brittany okay?"

You nod and sit down with her bowl of soup in your hands, "Hungry?"

She nods, "A little."

You sit up against the headboard and she sits up next to you, leaning onto you. You hold the bowl and hand her the spoon. She takes a tiny bite and then hmms against your shoulder.

"How's Santana?" she asks, setting the spoon in the bowl. Her hand falls to her side and you glance into the bowl to see that she had barely eaten anything.

"She's still a little freaked out," you explain, "I don't think she'll be leaving Brittany anytime soon."

Rachel lets out a heavy sigh, "I was supposed to text Brittany last night after we checked on Santana. I guess its okay now that I didn't."

You pick up the spoon and maneuver yourself so that she can continue to lean on you and you can feed her.

"I'm not a baby," she reaches for the spoon, but you pull it out of her reach.

"You act like one sometimes, " you smile, "You need to eat."

She pouts at you calling her a baby so you start making airplane noises until she opens her mouth. A small chuckles escapes after she swallows what you gave her. She hmmms again and turns toward you more.

You force as much soup down her as you can and she tells you that she's sleepy. That's just about the time her daddy makes an appearance and asks you if you and Santana really have that long of a lunch break.

Santana looks like she's about to protest, but Brittany volunteers to go back to school. After calling her mom to make sure it's okay, you all get into Santana's car and head back to school.

The classes you have feel empty without Rachel sitting next to you so you don't feel much like paying attention. But you do because you're taking notes for both you and Rachel now.

Finally when you get to glee, there's an open seat next to Santana. On Santana's other side you expect to see Brittany, but Puck is sitting there. Brittany is sitting on front of her though. You presume so Santana can watch Brittany while still being mad at her.

Of course when Mr. Schue proposed that Brittany and Mike demonstrate some kind of new dance move, Santana launches into a long winded, very Rachel, speech about how Brittany has a concussion and doesn't need to be a guinea pig for his little outdated dance moves.

Mr. Schue looks for the longest time like he doesn't know what to say to that so you think about what Rachel would do and then do it yourself, "Why don't we practice our duets?"

He nods at you, "Good idea Quinn."

"Wait guys," Brittany says and stands up from her chair. Tina and Mercedes start to get up and follow her, but she adds, "I'm not going to sing the song." Tina and Mercedes look at each other before sitting back down.

She takes a deep breath and her eyes land on Santana about the time that Santana reaches over and takes your hand. Brittany runs her fingers through her hair before stopping where her liquid stitches are and dropping her hand.

"I was going to sing you a song," Brittany offers with a shrug, "Because what we had this summer was awesome and I was so stupid to break up with you."

"You're not stupid," Santana says so quietly that you're sure it barely reached Brittany. But when the blonde smiles you know it did.

Brittany addresses the rest of the group now, "Santana and I dated over the summer, which is pretty much like being best friends, but with more kissing and…stuff. And it was…the best summer of my life. Anyway, I broke up with her and it _was_ stupid. I heard my mom talking over the summer on the phone and she was saying a word that Santana doesn't like. The mean one about girls who like other girls. And I got scared that my mom wouldn't love me anymore if she found out about me and S. So I broke up with her. Finally I figured out that she was talking about the walls they put by the ocean," she scrunches up her nose like she's not sure about it and looks to Santana. You look over at your friend and she nods, signaling that Brittany's right about the wording. The grip on your hand becomes so tight that you think bones may start being broken.

"I'm sorry," Brittany tells Santana earnestly. "I'm not scared though. Not anymore. My mom loves you and she knows that I do too. And even if she didn't it still wouldn't stop me from being with you…if you wanted. Because I love you more than I've ever loved anymore." She drops her head and sighs, "Anyway, I'm not going to, like, ask you out anymore because I know you're mad at me, but…I'm sorry."

Your eyes turn to Santana who has tears in her eyes. Puck nudges Santana and that's all she needs to drop your hand and walk over to Brittany. She slips her arms around Brittany's neck and the blonde holds Santana around her waist, spinning her around. The whole club breaks out into applause as they share a moment in the middle of the room.

All practice is pretty much abandoned after that. You're happy though because you get to go home and take care of Rachel. When you get home though Rachel's taken another round of medicine and she's passed out cold. You change and get ready for bed because you're not leaving the house again until Rachel feels better. You have all weekend to nurse her back to health and that's what you plan on doing.

You've been laying in bed for a few hours just holding her. She snuggled into you almost as soon as you laid down. The sun is now down and the only light in the room is the TV. You're watching her now and you're pretty sure you have been for over half an hour.

You just can't look away. In the TV light, you can't shake the mysterious sexiness about her. She stirs a little and one of her hands slips under your shirt. It's an accident, but it sends chills though you nonetheless.

"Quinn?" she says weakly.

"Hmm?" you brush some hair away from her face and bend closer to her so you can hear what she's saying.

That's why when her lips connect with yours, you're surprised. And just as fast as she kisses you, it's over. You can still feel her lips on yours. They're warm and soft and so sweet. You lick your lips because the taste lingers.

"Mmm," she tucks her head under your chin and mumbles "Can't do that. I'll get you sick."

"Rachel?" you ask softly against her hair.

"Thanks for taking care of me Quinn," she adds, her breath sliding across your collar, electrifying your skin.

With one last sigh, you're sure she's gone to sleep leaving you alone to wonder what the hell just happened. Sure she didn't freak out when you kissed her at your mom's house, but that's just because if she would have freaked out, you would have freaked out and she's trying to protect you and your fragile feelings. Right? That makes sense. She's subduing her true feelings about your momentary lapse in willpower because she doesn't want you to feel bad.

So why would she kiss you? It's probably just the medication and her drowsiness. She didn't know what she was doing. Except…it seemed like she did.

It takes a few hours, but you finally think yourself to sleep, your arms holding tight to the sick girl curled against you.


	13. Heavy Rope by Lights

When you wake up, your head feels foggy. You open one eye to test your head's reaction to the introduction of light. Initially it's uncomfortable, but you manage to get both eyes open without much pain. When you try to move your head however, you find that it's a terrible idea. A pain shoots up your neck and into your head wrapping itself around your brain.

"Yeah, you should probably not move."

Your eyes move to Quinn's place on the bed, but she's not there. Santana is laying on her back, holding her phone over her face apparently texting someone.

"Where's Quinn?" you relax into your pillow again. This medication is making you extremely tired and you just don't have it in you to fight it for very long.

"Am I not good enough for you?" Santana lulls her head over toward you with a smile.

You can't help a smile, "Of course you are Santana. I was just curious. She's not out getting a tattoo is she?"

"Nope," Santana picks up her phone when it buzzes, "She's in the shower." She smiles at her phone and sends a text back.

"Who are you texting?" you ask, although you're not sure that Santana will actually tell you.

When she's done replying Santana sets her phone down on her stomach, "Brittany."

That jerks you awake. "Who? Glee Brittany?"

"Yeah," Santana grins, "Didn't Quinn tell you what happened in during glee yesterday?"

"I think I've been asleep since you guys brought me lunch," you sincerely hate missing things like this. You stretch and roll onto your side so you can properly converse with Santana, "What happened?"

"Well she told me why she really broke up with me," Santana turns on her side and props her head up, "She heard her mom talking about dikes or whatever and thought that she was being homophobic. She was actually talking about levees. God knows why. Anyway it freaked her out." The elated look on her face fades as she looks at you. Her eyes quickly survey your face, "You look like you feel nauseous. Do you need a trashcan or something?"

"I don't feel nauseous, but thank you for your offer," you don't even comment on why she thinks you look nauseous, "So are you and Brittany back together?"

"We're going on a date tonight," Santana says with a twinkle in her eyes. She's trying to contain her excitement, "We have to talk and shit, but yeah I guess so. I mean I can't be mad at her for freaking out. I pretty much freaked out about it for a year."

"I'd hug you, but I don't want you to get sick," you tell Santana with a smile. She moves in and hugs you anyway.

"Do you guys want me to leave? Because if you want to…you know, get it on…I'd be totally cool with that," a voice drifts in from the doorway of your room.

"Fuck you Puckerman," Santana rolls away from you, but not completely off of the bed.

You roll over onto your other side and see Noah standing the doorway, a bowl in his hand. He hitches his chin to you and makes his way over to the bed. He sets the bowl on the nightstand. "My Nana made you some soup. It's like Lentil soup or something. It takes kind of like grass so I think it's vegan."

You can't help, but chuckle at his description. "Thank you Noah."

He shoves his hand into his pockets, trying to look aloof, "Yeah, well do you need anything else?"

"I think Quinn and Santana have taken care of anything, but thank you for the soup," you sit up as best you can and he bends down to give you a hug. There's something sad in the way that he hugs you.

He lingers a little like he doesn't want to leave and you're certainly not going to make him. So you offer, "You're welcome to stay. I was actually just about to start a movie if you'd like to join us."

It doesn't take much more than that to get him to stay. He and Santana stand in front of the TV, going through the DVDs and arguing about what to watch while you try to quell the swirling fog running through your brain.

Your eyes flutter closed for a moment after you move some of your pillows around to make room on the bed for everyone. A soft dip in the bed appears next to you and you open one eye to see who it is. You smile when you see it's Quinn and move to rest your head in her lap, "You take long showers."

She chuckles and strokes your hair, moving it away from your face, "I'm sorry. I thought you'd sleep for a few more hours. What is Puck doing here?"

"He brought some lentil soup for me that his Nana made," you rest your hand on her knee and draw little patterns on it, "I asked him if he wanted to watch a movie with us."

"Nana makes the best soup," Quinn offers, her fingers trailing from the tips of your hair across your back, "How do you feel?"

"My throat still hurts and my whole body is ache-y," you sigh, wishing that you felt better. You dislike laying in bed for too long and it's been almost two days.

"I'm sorry," she says, running her fingers lightly back up your back, "Do you need anything?"

You shake your head, "I just need to watch a movie with my friends." You look up at her and she smiles down at you. The butterflies in your stomach fly all the way up to your heart and you're sure that you're heart rate is twice the normal pace. All you want to do is move up and kiss her….

Her smile disappears as your eyes get wide. "What's wrong?"

You cover your mouth is horror at what you did. You can't believe that you didn't immediately remember that you kissed her when you woke up.

"Rachel," she says urgently, "Do you feel sick?" Her eyes scan around the room, probably looking for a trashcan or something.

Your eyes dart to Noah and Santana who are now looking at you, both completely concerned. You decide to pass it off as nausea for right now and then apologize to Quinn later when you're alone. She doesn't seem upset about it so you can put it off for a while.

Of course it's all you think about through the entire movie. With your head on Quinn's shoulder, Noah on the other side of Quinn and Santana laying between yours and Quinn's legs with her head in your lap, all you can think about is how you kissed her. How you shouldn't have done it and it's the medication's fault. And how good it felt, her lips pressed to yours for the brief amount of time. About how much you're dying to do it again.

When the movie is over, Santana gets up and stretches, "I'm going to get ready for my date. Text me if you need anything." She taps you shin lightly as she stands next to the bed.

You smile at her. You honestly never thought that Santana would ever offer to take care of you in any way, shape, or form before these past few weeks. You're so glad she's on your side now.

"Who are you going on a date with?" Noah asks, moving so that he's laying across the foot of the bed, his legs dangling off one side and his arms crossed beneath his head.

"Brittany," Santana beams, plucking her purse off of your desk.

Noah runs his hand over his shirt to smooth it out, "You're like actually dating?"

Santana nods, pausing by the door to tell you and Quinn that she'll drop by later to check on you both. You look down at the bed and see Noah about to open his mouth. You quickly whisper to Quinn, "He's going to say something mean. Stop him."

Before you know it, Noah is on the floor in front of the bed rubbing his elbows, "What the fuck Quinn?"

"Whoops," Quinn deadpans. Then she smiles at Santana, "Have fun San. Tell Brittany we said hi." You look at Quinn in disbelief. You didn't mean to kick Noah off of the bed.

Santana nods to Quinn and then walks out the door with an amused glance back at Noah.

Noah stands up and sits back down on the bed, "What was that?"

"You were going to say something mean to Santana and she's just getting out of her funk," you scoot closer to Quinn, "Please lay off of her for a little while. You can make fun of me all you want okay?"

Noah shakes his head and ruffles his mowhawk. "Nah, I'll lay off. You could have just told me to shut up."

Quinn turns her head toward your where her chin brushes against your bangs when she says, "Sorry. I panicked." You can feel her smile against your forehead and you can't help, but smile with her.

Noah looks at the two of you and you can see a hint of a smirk on his mouth. He stands up and grabs his jacket off of the floor, "Is it cool if I come back tomorrow? I'll bring some of my movies."

"Sure," you tell him with a smile.

"No porn," Quinn adds, which you feel like you should have known to say.

He nods and walks out the door, drumming on the top of the doorframe as he walks out.

That leaves you and Quinn alone. She rubs you back and straightens your hair, "So, another movie or are you sleepy?"

"I think I'm getting sleepy," you confess. You've been fighting off because you had company, but you're exhausted and fighting against it has only drained you that much more.

"Do you want to try to eat some soup before you go to bed?" Quinn brings one of her hands up to your forehead to feel your temperature and then uses her cheek to double check, "You're getting warm again."

"I'll be fine if I just sleep a little," you tell her. You don't want her to worry. So you scoot down the bed and lay on your pillow. She lays down next to you and pulls you into her arms. You, of course, don't resist. You always feel so much better when her arms around you.

You maneuver your head onto her shoulder and feel her fingers massage your scalp through your hair. Before you let sleep overcome you again you have to apologize. "Quinn?"

"Hmm?" she asks. She turns her head toward you and your thoughts fade out. She's turned off the TV so the whole room is dark except for the light coming from the bathroom door. Your curtains are blocking out whatever light may be trying to get in from the outside. You don't know because you have no idea what time it is. All you can think about is how her lips taste. How you want to feel them against your own lips again.

You're so lost in thoughts about kissing her that you barely hear her say, "Rach?"

"Oh," you shake your head with your eyes closed, "I um…I wanted to apologize for…last night," you lick your lips and close your eyes so you won't see hers, "For anything I may have done to make you…uncomfortable."

There's a thick silence in the air. You can feel her arms become momentarily rigid before going back to their relaxed state. "You didn't do anything to make me uncomfortable."

You open your eyes and look at her. Did you dream the kiss? You guess it's plausible. "I didn't?"

"Of course not," she gently cups your cheek and tucks you under her chin, "Get some sleep Rach."

"Are you sure?" you ask, the sleep already creeping over you. Your brain is already starting to get bogged down, slowly grinding to a halt.

Her lips brush against your forehead, "I'm sure."

"So we didn't kiss?" you ask before your brain can catch up to your mouth.

Again she has another momentary rush of rigidity before she's quiet for a little bit. Her voice is quiet and raspy when she answers, "We did."

You move to sit up, looking down at her. You shake your head a little to try to get the dizziness to subside. She moves up and brushes your hair away from your face, "Are you okay?"

You nod because you want to have this conversation now that it's started. No matter how tired or dizzy you are. "I um…I just want…I didn't make you uncomfortable by kissing you?"

She lets out what you think seems kind of like a nervous smile. She shakes her head, "No."

You don't really know how to respond to that. You don't understand why she's not freaking out or why she doesn't have a problem with it. But she adds something before you can speak, "You're getting another fever Rach."

You reach up and feel your own head. Not that you've ever really been able to tell with yourself. "I don't think…" You lose the thought when she gets out of the bed and tells you to lay down.

You lay back down and when she comes back, she places a cool damp washcloth across your forehead. You can't seem to fight your need to sleep. You move your body as close to Quinn as possible and wait for her to hold you like she always does before you let go.

The next time you wake up, you push yourself up on your elbows. Quinn's hand slides limply from your upper stomach to your hips with your movement. Your neck is sore so you roll it out and as you're about to get out of bed to go to the bathroom, you spot someone else in your room.

Seated at your desk, in your computer chair, Santana is curled up as much as she can be, asleep with her head lulled to the side on the top of the back of the chair. There's a blanket draped over her and you know that she can't be comfortable like that.

You slowly slide out from under Quinn's arm and stand. Your muscles ache like you haven't used them in a long time. You cover your mouth when you yawn and try your best to tame your hair with as little movement as possible.

Then you walk over to Santana and gently place your hand on her shoulder and whisper, "Santana."

Her eyes flutter open almost instantly. She takes a moment to take in her surroundings before she asks, "Are you okay?"

You give her a soft smile and nod, "Why don't you go sleep in the guest room?"

She shakes her head and pulls the blanket farther up to her chin, "I'm fine."

You roll your eyes at her even though you're extremely touched by her caring. "Then come sleep on the bed."

"There's not enough room," she pushes her hair out of her face.

"There's plenty of room," you correct her. Sometimes she's as hard headed as you.

She just shakes her head and puts her head back to where it was before you woke her up, "I'm fine."

You look around the room and finally sit down on the ground in front of the bed with your back against it. She asks you what you're doing and you pull your knees to your chest, "I'm not getting in bed until you do."

"Santana," Quinn says sleepily from her place in the bed, "Get in the damn bed." Of course she woke up when you moved.

Santana rolls her eyes, but gets up with her blanket and falls into the bed. When you use the bathroom and come out, you crawl between them. Quinn slides her arm over you and you cuddle into her.

"How was your date Santana?" you have to ask before you can go to sleep.

"It was perfect," Santana says and even though you can't see her, you know that she's smiling. She's on her side facing away from you and Quinn. Between that and how close you and Quinn are, there's plenty of room on the bed for all of you.

"What did you guys do?" Quinn asks, her voice laced with all kinds of exhaustion.

"We just went to Breadstix," Santana adds, "But it was just…perfect."

In the morning you're greeted by two sleeping Cheerios and the doorbell. You're feeling considerably better, but it's cold so on your way down to get the door, you grab the closest jacket to you and slip it on.

Your dads must be gone because you don't smell coffee or hear them. You pull the Cheerio jacket tighter around you as you make your way to the front door. When you pull it open, you find a smiling blonde Cheerio with a plastic container filled with muffins in one hand and a beautiful bundle of golden flowers in the other hand.

"Hi Brittany," you smile.

She grins back and gives you a hug, "I brought you guys breakfast." Then she presents the flowers to you, "These are for you. I hope you feel better. They're kinda shaped like a stars 'cause I know that's your thing."

You accept the flowers with another hug and open the door for Brittany to walk into the house and close it behind her. "Thank you so much. That's so sweet."

She just smiles and looks around, "Are they still asleep?"

You nod, "Do you want to watch TV with me until they wake up? Quinn usually doesn't sleep long after I get out of bed."

Brittany smiles her special Brittany smile and nods, "Awesome." She sets the muffins down on the coffee table, "These are totally vegan by the way. My dad made them."

"I'm going to go put these in some water," you say and make your way to the kitchen to place the flowers in a vase. They really are very pretty. You're glad that Brittany and Santana worked things out because you like having Brittany as a friend.

When you get back into the living room, you ask Brittany how her head feels. She gives you a smile and tells you that it's okay. You settle on the couch next to her and flip on the TV.

You're surprised that Quinn isn't up after the first round of trashy reality TV is over. It's actually a little concerning. Brittany must have seen you continually glancing at the stairs because she sends a quick text that's almost immediately replied to. "Santana says they're talking. They'll be down in a sec."

You both turn back to the TV. You start to wonder what exactly they're talking about when Brittany adds, "Lauren broke up with Puck."

"Really?" you turn to her. You guess that makes sense of the way he was acting yesterday. He didn't want to leave and he seemed a little upset.

Brittany nods, "I saw him walking home last night after I dropped Santana off. He looked sad so I gave him a ride. She told him the glee club was stupid and he was ruining her rep."

"That's horrible," you say. You pull your knees to your chest. So people really do break up with other people because of their reputations. That thought stabs you in the heart. You can think of a blonde girl upstairs whose reputation would definitely take a hit if she was caught in a romantic relationship with you. Or it could. Your friendship doesn't seem to be making her any less popular however you're not sure how much longer everyone will be willing to treat her like she can't do any wrong because of what happened over the summer. You're not sure how much longer everyone is going to keep pretending that you're not a social pariah.

But none of that will happen. Because the romantic relationship is not going to happen.

"Is there coffee?" you hear from behind you.

Santana and Quinn appear at the bottom of the stairs. Santana sits down next to Brittany and leans into her. The blonde wraps her arms around Santana. "Good morning."

"Mmm…morning," Santana rests her head on Brittany's shoulder.

You look up at Quinn who is watching them with a smile that she's fighting. When her eyes move to you, you see her shift her weight from one foot to the other. She looks conflicted so open your arms to her and she smiles fully before sitting next to you. She hugs you around your waist. "Good morning sunshine," you sing. You can't help it. Her smile makes you feel like singing.

She takes a deep breath as she moves closer, her arms constricting around you in the best of ways.

"Brittany brought breakfast," you add.

"Awesome," Quinn says, resting her forehead on the curve of your neck. She takes another deep breath where she is and pulls away, "How do you feel?"

You push back a strand of her hair that's fallen out of place. You start to answer, but there's a knock on the door.

Santana puts a hand on you to keep you from getting up to get it. She rises from the couch and strides to the front door. You heard it open and Santana asking, "What do you want?"

"I came to check on Rachel," Noah's voice answers her, "Nana made her more food."

You hear the shuffling of shoes and bare feet. Then the door closes. Noah walks in and sets the food on the coffee table. He looks noticeably uncomfortable when he sees Brittany sitting on the couch. Then he looks at you, "Nana made potato latkes for you. She always cooks for people when they're sick." He shoves his hands into his pockets and shrugs, "I don't know why."

You pat the couch next to you, the information Brittany gave you make you not hesitate to ask him to stay. He nods to you and asks, as he's extracting a few DVD cases from his jacket pocket, "Whose letterman?"

You look down at the jacket that you're wearing and realize that you actually have no idea. You reach into the pocket and extract a folded up piece of paper. You start to unfold it, but Santana practically dives across Brittany to snatch it out of your hand. But not before you saw Brittany's name on the paper with hearts all over it.

Santana placed the paper down her shirt and in her bra, saying, "That's my jacket." She swats Brittany's hand away when she hooks her finger around the collar of Santana's shirt and pulls at it to get a peek inside. You're going to presume that she's looking for the paper and not…other things.

When your dads get home, you're all sitting in a big teenage lump on the couch. Daddy looks less than happy at Noah's presence, but bites his tongue. Noah does his best to not be awkward when Dad asks him about his pool cleaning business.

You get your dads to lay off, but not before Noah decides that he needs to leave. "Where are you going?" you ask him.

"Probably the gym. Maybe go a few rounds with the punching bag or something," he shrugs. He does really look upset and you feel bad for him.

You glance over at Quinn. She looks like she wants to go, but she doesn't want to leave you. You understand it and decide to help her without her knowing that you're helping her. "Why don't you go Quinn?"

Quinn makes eye contact with Santana and you can see their nonverbal communication at work. After a few seconds Santana looks to Brittany. The blonde smiles at her and kisses her cheek, "I will totally stay here and take care of Rachel."

Santana grins and looks back at Quinn who turns back to you. You don't understand how they had such a conversation without speaking. You're in awe of it actually. But you nod to Quinn with a smile. She still looks conflicted, but goes along with it pretty much because you tell her to.

Once you get the three off to the gym, you and Brittany return to your room to watch TV.

"Santana's been sleeping in this chair?" Brittany asks, leisurely spinning around in your computer chair.

You nod from your place on the bed, "Until we get her to move to a bed."

A grin crosses Brittany's face. Leans back and sighs contently, "I've missed her so much."

"I bet," you hug Quinn's pillow to your chest, "She's missed you too."

Brittany has a deliriously happy look on her face and she moves to fall on the bed next to you. You giggle when she squeezes you in a tight hug. You're happy for them. Brittany and Santana belong together.

"How's Quinn?" Brittany asks in the middle of a TV show, "I know I haven't like…been around."

"She's doing better," you smile lightly at the thought, "Her mom is doing better too, I think." More like you hope.

"Won't you, like, miss her when she moves out?" she asks, picking up her phone and looks at the screen.

You freeze for a moment. You never thought of that. You just assumed that Quinn would live with you until you both graduated and that you would move to New York together. She's become such a huge part of your life you don't know what you'd do with yourself if Quinn wasn't still a part of your day to day.

"Rachel?" Brittany asks, "Are you…going to throw up?"

You huff and lay back on the bed. Why does everyone assume that you're going to throw up? You close your eyes and imagine your room like it was before…but…it's just that…you can't. You can't remember what your room looked like before Quinn moved in. It's like she was always here. Like she was always meant to be here.

Brittany calls your name again and this time you answer, "I'm fine. I'm sorry. I just zoned out." She doesn't look like she believes you, but nods anyway.

What will you do if Quinn moves back into her house? You had to know that it was inevitable. That's where her mom is. That's where all of her stuff is…was. Most of it is here now, intertwined with your things. Sometimes you can't tell what's yours and what's hers anymore.

You both sit in silence until Quinn and Santana get back. They both showered at the gym so they fall right into bed with you and Brittany. You find yourself clinging to Quinn. You don't want her to leave you. Ever. For any reason. You want to share a room with her and a bed with her and _everything_ with her.

"Santana," you get up off of the bed and walk out the door of your room. Luckily she follows you and you close the door to the guest room after her. Walking that fast was a mistake, but you're on a mission so you ignore the whirling in your head.

"What?" Santana looks down at you, her eyes intense, trying to assess you.

"I need to tell her," you state with all the finality in you, "I need to tell her that I'm in love with her and that I have been for years and that I can't stand the thought of her leaving me."

Santana reaches up and feels your forehead. You slap her hand away and see a momentary flash of anger in her eyes. When she calms down she crosses her arm, "You need to tell her right now?"

"As soon as possible," you start planning how you're going to tell her in your head. There are going to be candles and flowers, oh Brittany can get you the most beautiful flowers, and moonlight…

Snapping in front of your face shakes you from your daydream. "Earth to Berry," Santana says, "Do you really think this is the best time?"

"Not only the best time, but the only time," you say urgently trying to get her to understand, "What happens when she moves back in with her mom?"

Santana lowers her voice, "You and I both know that her mom may not actually get better. Or at least good enough to take care of Quinn. _We_ have to take care of Quinn. And that means that I'm not going to let you bombard her with this. Not right now. It's too soon."

"But _when_ Santana?" you ask. You know at some level she's right, "We've kissed twice."

"Twice?" Santana's jaw falls open, "I thought it was just the one time."

You bite your lip, feeling a little less confident under her stare, "Last night, I was half-asleep and heavily medicated, I kissed her. We talked about it this morning and she told me that it didn't make her uncomfortable."

"I have no doubt that she was not uncomfortable," Santana adds the edge gone from her voice, "I'm just saying cool your jets. She's not going anywhere anytime soon."

You let out a deep, overly dramatic sigh. You had had momentary hopes for your senior year. You and Quinn headlining the glee club performances. Singing 'Baby It's Cold Outside' during the Holiday recital together. Being like Katherine and Spencer, Fred and Ginger, of being the McKinley High performing arts power couple.

"Hey," Santana adds dropping her arms, dipping down to catch your eyes. They's soft and caring. So much so that she almost doesn't look like the Santana you know, "I'm not saying never tell her. I'm just saying that you may need to wait a few weeks. Let her get her head on straight. Pinkie promise." She sticks her pinkie out to you.

You look at her and finally link your pinkie to hers, "Pinkie promise." She lets go of your pinkie and you look down at your hand, tracing the outline of your nails. "Why does a few weeks seems like an eternity?" you ask with a pout.

Santana laughs and wraps her arms around you in a hug. "Because you watch all those old movies and you're such a drama queen."

You try to be mad at her, but you can't. You settle for playfully pushing her away as you two exit the guest room and rejoin the blondes in your bedroom.


	14. Whatever's On Your Mind by Gomez

Your phone vibrates with a Facebook notification. You open up and find that it says, "You're invited to: Lord Tubbington's Birthday party." It's from Brittany of course. The party is going to be at her house, Saturday afternoon. You look from the bed to the desk where Rachel is looking at her phone probably reading the same invitation.

Then you're phone buzzes again and you hear Rachel laugh before you can finish reading the next invitation. "You're invited to: Pain if you don't go to LT's birthday party." It is of course from Santana.

You say 'yes' to the party and 'no' to the pain.

Rachel sets her phone on the desk, "I think Santana's just trying to regain some of her ferocious rep because everyone sees her following Brittany around like an overly excited puppy."

You fall back onto the bed with a laugh and stretch. It's getting a little chilly in the room and you're wondering if Rachel is still warm enough. She looks so cute in your Cheerio sweatpants and your letter jacket. Her hair is braided pigtails, but the braids are fraying and loose strands hang on her face. You think that you'd be used to looking at her by now and not be affected by how cute she looks. Even in sweat pants and braids. Of course they're _your_ sweatpants so….you shake those thoughts away from your head. Bad Quinn.

You lightly sigh and pick up a book off of the nightstand. You're supposed to be reading it for English. There are two bookmarks in it. A neon pink one and a neon green one. You and Rachel are sharing the book and take turns reading it. Judging by how far her neon green bookmark is in front of yours, she did a lot of reading last night while you were asleep.

After about an hour of reading the dense words, you close the book. When you look up Rachel is gone. A surge of panic rushes through you. You've gotten better at hiding them, but they're still there when you look up and she's gone. You're also better at quelling them once they've spiked. It doesn't make it any less unpleasant. You can rationalize that she's in the bathroom or downstairs. You flex your hands a few times trying to get rid of the shakes you get before getting up to go find her.

You find her downstairs talking to her dads. You walk past them all in the living room to the kitchen pretending like you weren't just going to see where Rachel was. You think that she knows what you do and you feel embarrassed because of it.

You walk over to the cabinet where the glasses are and get one down. As you're filling it with water, Daddy walks into the kitchen. He smiles at you, "Everything okay?"

He thinks you're upset because you're drinking water. At some point Rachel trained you to become thirsty when you're upset. Right now it's probably equal parts upset and thirsty. You smile at him and shake your head, "I'm fine. Just thirsty."

He steps over toward you and puts his arm around you affectionately rubbing your shoulder, "Do you need another coat for our trip to Vermont?"

"Vermont?" you ask. You're thoroughly confused at his question.

"Oh Rachel must not have brought it up yet," he says moving to the stove and lifting the kettle off of it. He goes to the sink as he continues, "We go to Vermont every year. We're going in twenty…three days and we're gone for four days. Just family bonding."

"And you want me to go?" you ask.

He smiles as he finishes filling up the kettle, "You're practically a Berry anyway." He laughs and adds, "Maybe a Faberry?"

You laugh with him. You feel like part of this family more than you did when you were in the midst of Fabrays. Of course there aren't many Fabrays left now. That thought definitely puts a damper on your mood.

"How about we take a family trip up to the Galleria in Cleveland?" he asks, setting the kettle on the stove and turning on the gas fire under it, "We'll get some Vermont clothes."

You want to go with them. You really do, but you have obligations here. Namely your mother. You can't leave her alone for four days. Who would feed her? Who would check on her to make sure she's still….you don't want to think about it….

With a heavy sigh you tell Daddy your thoughts on it. You can't let the Berrys pay for you to go somewhere you won't end up going to.

He walks back over to you and puts his arm around you, "I seems that my big mouth is getting ahead of me." He calls for his husband and Rachel. When they walk in you all sit at the kitchen table and you're a little worried about what this means. You wonder if you missed something the last time you went back to your house. You start going over yesterday's visit in your head trying to think of something that was out of place.

"Quinn," Rachel says quietly and slips her hand into yours on your lap. They're all looking at you and you figure you must have zoned out.

You lick your lips and zero in on Rachel, "What?"

"The psychotherapist called this morning," she says evenly, her eyes locked on your face waiting for any kind of reaction.

You don't know why but tears jump to your eyes. You immediately think the worst. Rachel places her arms around your shoulders and pulls you against her body, "No baby, it's nothing like that."

You sniffle and wipe at your eyes. You duck your head in complete embarrassment. "I'm sorry," you mumble.

"Quinn," Dad takes over in a gentle voice. You reluctantly meet his eyes and he continues, "She said that your mom is making progress, but she thinks that the progress may be more rapid if she goes into a more intensive therapy."

"Like what?" you ask, leaning more into Rachel.

"A residential treatment center," he explains, "She recommended one in Pennsylvania." His eyes flicker to Rachel before he continues, "We have all the literature for you to read over if you'd like. All three of us have read over it. You can ask us any questions that you'd like or we can just give you everything."

You're at a loss. Residential treatment center? Like rehab? How much is there to read about it and why are they just telling you now? Why did they all read it before telling you? You pull away from Rachel enough to look at her. You need to look at her and look into her eyes. It's where you find clarity. She's your safe place to think and to process. This is a lot for you.

Finally you gain your bearings. They're all still sitting at the table, patiently watching you, waiting for some kind of response.

"What do you think?" you ask Rachel's dads.

They silently confer between themselves and Daddy nods before turning back to you, "We think it's a good idea. But you have power of attorney. It's your decision. It's not that she's not making progress here. It's that the therapist thinks that she'll make a faster progression at the treatment center."

You move farther into Rachel. Farther into your safe place. You hold her around her waist, not allowing any space between your bodies. You feel one of her hands gently rest on the side of your head, fingers intertwining in your hair. Her other hand is on your upper arm, supporting your holding of her. You sigh when you lay your head against hers.

You suck your bottom lip into your mouth, biting at it before you ask, "How long would she be gone?"

"Four weeks," Dad states. He looks at you apprehensively. "After the first week you can go visit her. We'll drive you up there as many times as you'd like."

It takes you a moment to realize that you're holding onto Rachel's shirt so tight that your knuckles are white. It's not fair. You're seventeen. You shouldn't have to make these kind of decisions. You're still in high school and you don't have any active parents and you're scared to mess everything up. All these thoughts culminate in your eyes and start to trickle down your face.

You let go of Rachel and wipe off your face with both hands, "Can I think about it for a while?"

Both of Rachel's dads nod and you quickly walk out of the room before any of them can even stand up. You move through the living room and out the front door before you even know where your feet are taking you.

You're disappointed on so many levels when you don't hear Rachel calling after you. You're disappointed that she's not and you're disappointed that you want to her follow after you. It's cold outside and she shouldn't have to run after you every time you freak the hell out.

As you're rounding the first corner, you hear the soft pat, pat, pat of someone running after you. When you turn around you see Rachel jogging to catch up with you. She slows down and stops in front of you, handing you your letter jacket. "Sorry," she apologizes as you shrug on your jacket, "I had to get my shoes and another jacket." She's in her grey faux-wool jacket. Her cheeks are pink from the cold air hitting them as she ran.

You shake your head, feeling guilty, "You didn't have to come after me."

The look on her face is dead serious when she says, "I'll always come after you."

You have no answer to that so you turn the corner and continue walking. You blindly reach for her hand and easily find it without having to look. You lace your fingers together and put your joint hands into the pocket of your jacket to keep them warm.

You briskly walk so it doesn't take you long to reach the Fabray house. It doesn't even feel like home when you walk through the door. Your home is with the Berrys and you feel guilty about that as well. Once inside you find that it's cold in the house as well. Not as cold as outside, but you can tell that no one has turned the heater on. You let go of Rachel and go right to the thermostat. It takes a few seconds, but the whirl of the heater firing up fills the house.

When you turn around Rachel is sitting on the couch in the exact same spot that she always waits for you in. You change your mom's food and get her some more water. There's another book on her nightstand next to her food and the TV is still off. You're happy for that. You linger in the doorway a little longer than usual looking at her. She looks so frail and you always feel so helpless looking at her.

You manage to fit a few more thoughts into your head before you walk into the living room where Rachel is waiting patiently just like always.

"What do you think?" you ask her.

She looks startled that you said something. You usually don't speak until you're outside of the house. She takes a thoughtful moment before she says anything, "I think it's up to you. Whatever you think Quinn."

You shake your head and fight off tears, "I don't want it to be up to me." The second you sniffle, she's off of the couch and holding you in her arms.

She doesn't offer any advice or opinions. She just holds you in the middle of the cold living room. You desperately wish that she would tell you what to do. Let you know what would work out for the best with a PowerPoint and some statistical research. But she stays silent, rubbing your back as you contemplate what to do.

When you get moving again, you and Rachel walk back to her house and go up to your room. You ask her to go through all the literature with you and after agonizing hours you're staring at the ceiling with your head on her stomach as you both sprawl out over the bed.

"I don't want to push her too hard," you finally say, your voice raw and rough from the tears you've shed over the process.

"That's understandable," she states, not stopping her steady strokes of her fingers through your hair.

You take a deep breath, "I just…I want my mom back, but…." You tear up even as the words leave your lips. You win the battle to keep them in and continue, "I don't want to push her too hard because I want her back. What if I make it worse?"

"But what if you make it better?" Rachel asks.

You tilt your head up so you can look at her and you see that she's looking down at you. Her brown eyes offer nothing, but sympathy and caring. You finally have to look away or you'll be a bawling wreck again. "There are doctors there? Medical doctors?"

"At least one on the premises at all times," Rachel relays.

You rub your eyes then move up the bed so that your head is next to Rachel's on her pillow, "I think it's a good idea."

Her arm snakes under your head and she pulls you against her body, holding you completely. "Okay. Do you want me to tell Daddy or do you want to?"

"Can you?" you ask. You had a hard enough time coming to the decision, you don't want to have to explain it to anyone though you doubt that they'd make you explain.

"Of course," she kisses your forehead and relaxes her hold on you.

Once it's all said and done, the facility is set to pick up your mom the day after tomorrow. You feel the need to give her some warning even if she's not listening to you or she's asleep so the day before she leaves, after school, you sit on the foot of her bed and explain everything to her. You're a crying mess for the rest of the day and Rachel spends the evening in bed with you being whatever you need her to bed.

Dad took the morning off so that he could go to watch them take your mom away. You don't think you can stomach it. You tell Rachel to go on to school and you lay in bed at home, wondering if you made the right choice.

When Dad softly knocks on the doorframe, you look over at him. He tells you that she's on her way before kissing your head and telling you that he'll be downstairs if you need him.

Something inside of you is pulling you out of the house so you put on some warmer clothes, tell Dad you're going for a walk and step outside. You have to see for yourself. You have to know that she's gone somewhere where maybe they can help her.

Stepping inside your mom's house is eerie. You can almost feel that she's gone. Looking at her empty bed only confirms it for you. The house is completely empty and it feels so much bigger.

You turn on the gas fire and grab a blanket out of the hall closet, settling on the couch for a while. You don't feel like leaving the empty house. You haven't lived her in months, but you grew up here. And now no one lives here. The house feels lonely.

You get a text message around noon. _Hey where are you? I came home to see if you wanted to go to lunch with me._

You reply with your location and not five minutes later, Rachel walks in the front door. She quietly closes the door and makes her way to the couch. She has a paper bag in her hand as she sits down next to you. She doesn't speak as she extracts two sandwiches that she made and places one on your lap.

You watch her silently open the baggie her sandwich is in and take a bite. She thoughtfully chews while watching the fire billow from the burner beneath the fake logs. After she's a quarter of the way through her sandwich you takes yours out and begin eating it, wondering how she always knows exactly what to do to make you feel better.

If she was sitting any closer to you, you would have leaned over and kissed her again. Of course you know it's a bad idea. She pretended that the first kiss didn't happen and the second one confused you because she initiated it. You know what to make it of. It just made you feel the most chaotic peace you've ever felt. Like it was confusing and you didn't know what you were supposed to do, but it brought you a serenity that warmed your entire body.

You've been able to talk about it with Santana, who figured you out almost at the same time you did. She told you that you should make a move if you really feel like you really like her, but not immediately. It was that morning Brittany came over with Rachel was sick. She was right though. You're an emotional mess. You need to sort yourself out before you drag her down with you. If she'll even want to be with you, which you're seeing as an impossibility right now. You don't even know if she'll ever be able see you as anything besides the girl who cries too much and is too clingy.

"Did I make the right choice?" you ask her as the school lunch break is nearing the end.

She bites her lip, "Honestly? I think you did."

When you let out a sigh of relief you fall back on the couch and lay back for a few seconds. Then you get up and turn off the fire, "C'mon we're going to be late to school."

Her eyes light up and she lets out a smile, "You're coming?"

You nod, "I can't miss Cheerios practice again."

When Cheerios practice is over, you, Brittany and Santana all walk up the bleachers to where Rachel is sitting, doing her homework. "Did you guys get the invitation to Lord Tubbington's birthday party?" Brittany asks with a huge smile on her face.

Rachel smiles and nods, "Of course." Her eyes flicker to you before she smiles up at the blonde, "We'll be there. Do you need any help setting everything up?"  
Santana shakes her head, "Nah we got it." Her eyes move to you and an evil smirk forms on her lips. You haven't seen it there in a long time and it worries you. Brittany steals her attention and they link pinkies making their way to the parking lot.

"Ready?" you ask Rachel, standing in front of her.

She nods and starts putting away her things. When she's done you both walk down to her car and you sit in the passenger's seat waiting for her.

You're not sure what to do with yourself when your internal alarm goes off and tells you that it's time to go back to your house and check on your mom. She's not there anymore. She's in Pennsylvania. Hopefully getting better. So every afternoon you find yourself wondering why Rachel isn't taking you to your house before going home. That's before you remember that there's no reason to go.


	15. Leave My Body by Florence & The Machine

So Saturday afternoon finds you standing in Brittany's living room, watching as every Cheerio you've ever met as well as all the glee kids and a few people you've never met before mill around. You're holding a red plastic cup filled with soda in the middle of the Pierce living room. If any two people can bring together the Cheerios and the Glee kids it's Brittany and Santana. Both for completely different reasons obviously.

After Lord Tubbington 'unwrapped' his gifts (some rather odd gifts you might add. Not that you could blame anyone. What do you get for a cat?) the party shifted from an awkward party for a cat to a decent party for a Saturday afternoon. You don't know where Brittany's parents went, but someone plugged in some music and you're sure there's some alcohol floating around somewhere.

"I think Lord Tubbington hates me," Rachel steps up next to you and says over the music.

You quirk an eyebrow at her, with an amused smile, "He's a cat."

"That doesn't mean I want him to hate me," Rachel states, looking at the fat cat sitting on the armchair.

She's cute when she's biting her bottom lip like that, trying to decide what to do to make LT like her. Your hand moves toward her of its own accord. Your fingertips graze her palm before your pinkie and ring fingers hook onto her middle and forefinger.

She takes her eyes away from the cat and smiles sweetly at you, lightly swinging your hands between you. "You okay?"

You smile at her and nod. When she's looking at you like that, you don't think that there could be anything wrong with the world.

After some pizza and some more soda, you find Santana sitting outside on the porch by herself. You slide open the door and step outside. When you're closing it, she looks up at you, "Why aren't you in there putting the moves on your girl?"

"What?" you ask her, sitting down next to her on the steps leading to the soft manicured grass of the backyard.

Santana smirks. "That's what this is for."

"You threw the party so that I could…make a move on Rachel?" you ask her, looking out over the yard that you used to play in, in your childhood.

"It's actually LT's birthday," Santana shrugs, "But I made sure everyone came so that it would turn into a big party so that you two can hook up like normal teenagers."

"You told me to lay off," you're confused, "You told me that I wasn't in a place where I could handle her."

Santana looks down at her cup. "Maybe I was wrong. We're like a family you know. You and me. If she'll make you happy, I want you to be happy. And she's kinda grown on me. Don't tell her that though."

"What are you drinking?" you as, gesturing to her cup. You're a little worried. She only drinks heavily when she's having Brittany problems.

She lets out a small smile, "It's lemonade. Mrs. Pierce made it."

"Not spiked?" you have to ask.

She shakes her head and looks out over the back porch. She taps her fingernails on the wood of the deck and Brittany's sister's over excited dog comes running up to her. The dog stops before jumping on Santana when she snaps her fingers. He takes a few steps in place before sitting down.

"Did you teach him that?" you have to ask. You never knew Santana was an animal person. She's not even much of a human person.

Santana grins and scratches the dog behind the ears, "Yeah. I hang out here a lot now and I have to do something while I'm waiting for Brittany to finish her Spanish homework that she won't let me help with. So she'll sit in the swing and do her homework and I'll teach this guy how to not be such a dumbass."

The door slides open behind you and Rachel steps onto the deck. She smiles at you, but stays close to the door. "I was just coming to check you two."

"We are completely sober," Santana states and downs what's left in her cup. You feel sort of bad because you poured some rum in your soda earlier. Especially when Rachel beams at Santana's statement.

"Do you like dogs Berry?" Santana asks, glancing back at the one sitting on the grass staring intently at her.

Rachel straightens out her skirt and shrugs a little nervously, "I have had very limited interaction with such animals."

Santana motions her to come over and sit between you. Rachel does so and Santana tells her to hold your hand. Once Rachel's hand is securely in yours, Santana makes a kissing noise at the dog and points to Rachel.

The dog hops the steps up to Rachel and begins licking her face. "Eww Santana! It's…" But her initial fighting and complaining are replaced with the most beautiful laughter you've ever heard. She's squirming the entire time, but keeps her grip on your hand, attempting to playfully fend off the dog with one hand.

Santana snaps and the dog hops off of Rachel. Rachel is still laughing as she wipes off her face with her sleeve. Then Santana looks at you wickedly and does the same thing to you. The dog jumps up, practically in your lap.

You can hear Rachel laughing loudly next to you and Santana snickering. She finally calls the dog off and you do your best to fix your face with your free hand. You're roughly trying to eradicate what you're sure is dog slobber off of your face when a soft hand cups your chin. Rachel turns your face toward her and smiles softly while she runs her fingers over the smooth expanse of your cheek. "All better?"

You nod. Her touch could make anything better.

She smiles at you and it infuses in every feature of her face. Your eyes ghost over her face, ending in the kind, loving eyes.

The door sliding open behind you steals your attention. Brittany steps out on the deck with a smile. The dog leaps between you and Santana to get to her. Brittany scratched the dog behind the ears for a few seconds before Santana calls, "Asta." Then snaps her fingers. The dog sits at Brittany's feet, looking up at her.

"Puck took the party to his house because my parents are going to be here soon," Brittany mentions and walks over to the railing next to Santana because the step you're all sitting on is pretty much full with the three of you on it.

"Do we need to leave?" Rachel asks for both of you, looking up at Brittany.

The blonde shakes her head, "I already told them that you were here."

Rachel lets go of you and stands up, placing herself right next to Brittany, "There's a problem."

Brittany looks confused and tilts her head, "What is it?"

"Lord Tubbington doesn't like me," Rachel states with a patented form of determination.

Santana's head whips around to you. She looks like she's trying not to laugh. That doesn't help your poorly concealed effort to cover your own laughter.

Brittany retreats inside and returns holding the oversized cat. "Why don't you like Rachel?"

This is all too much for you so you and Santana stand up and walk out into the yard with Asta playfully bouncing around you. Santana lays down in the middle of the grass and Asta lays next to her. You sit next to her and watch the kitty therapy session happening on the porch.

"Oh my god, what are we going to do with them?" you ask, looking over at Santana.

She sighs, "Well hopefully sometime soon I can get my mack on with Brittany."

"Someday soon?" you ask, "You haven't yet?"

Santana reaches across her body and pets the dog, "We've kissed. They're like church kisses. I don't know which one of us stops it or whatever."

That seems so weird to you. When they weren't together they were all over each other and now that they're actual a real couple, nothing is happening. "Have you talked to her about it?"

"Do I ever talk to anyone about anything?" she asks you, her eyes turning toward the sky.

You lean back on the tree behind you and pick at the grass, "Touché."

"Whatever," she sits up and the dog sits up with her, "Since this party only lasted three hours how about we take Brittany and Rachel to dinner and then a movie. Maybe one of us with get lucky."

You doubt it's going to be you that gets lucky, but you agree anyway. You like taking Rachel out to dinner. She smiles the whole time and seems like she's trying to hide some intense excitement.

You and Santana make your way back to the house, seeing that Rachel and Brittany have already gone inside. When you slide the door closed behind you, you can hear them talking in the living room. You follow Santana toward them and you both stop at the entrance when you see Brittany sitting on the couch with LT on her lap and Rachel holding Charity.

Rachel beams when she sees you and stands with the entirely less fat Charity. She walks up to you and says, "Look Quinn, Charity likes me." She picks up the cat and holds it away from her, looking the cat over, "And her face is perfectly symmetrical."

You chuckle and agree with her. "Do you want to go to a movie and dinner with Brittany and Santana?"

"Of course," Rachel states and gently sets the cat down on the armchair.

Santana drives you all to Breadstix. You're immediately seated in a booth, Brittany and Santana on one side and you and Rachel on the other.

At first, you're nervous. Rachel may not know it, but for you this feels like an actual double date. And Santana is already making you look bad. She opened the door to the restaurant for all of you and she stood to the side so that Brittany could slide into the booth before her.

You're definitely going to have to step up your game on this imaginary date. Of course, you're already sitting down so you don't know what else to do. You've never been on this side of the chivalry standard.

"So, what are you guys doing this weekend?" Brittany asks, snapping a breadstick in half and offering half to Santana who smiles and accepts it.

"Tomorrow we're going shopping," Rachel answers for both of you, "For our Vermont trip."

Santana eyes you with a suspicious eyebrow, "Vermont trip?"

"It's an annual Berry family trip," Rachel grins and looked at you with twinkling eyes. You'd give anything to kiss her again, "This year we get to bring Quinn."

"Fun," Santana leans her cheek against her closed fist with an amused smirk.

You and Rachel both order a salad even though she assures you that you don't have to. Brittany and Santana split a pasta entrée. When the check comes you snatch it up before anyone else can. You pay which is the first date-ly thing you do all night.

"So," you breech the silence in the car on the way to the movie theatre. You look over at Rachel who is sitting in the seat behind Santana. She looks at you a content smile on her face. "What movie do you want to see?"

She shrugs, "Whatever you ladies want to see."

"Horror movie it is," Santana smirks. She catches you eyes in the rearview mirror and you know what she's doing. You appreciate it immensely because you're totally failing at this date thing. Even though Rachel doesn't know that it's a date.

Santana pays for her and Brittany and you pay for you and Rachel. "You don't have to do that Quinn," Rachel protests, "I'm perfectly capable of paying for my own ticket."

You swallow the jittery lump in your throat, "I…I know. I just…this is…let me do this okay?" God that sounded so weak.

Her eyes search your face and she licks her lips. All expression drops from her face and she stops walking. After a few seconds of a probing stare down, Rachel nods, softly adding, "Okay."

You swallow at the ever-present lump in your throat and nod the tiniest bit. You look down at your feet as you both walk to the concession stand. You're not exactly sure what Rachel would want so you just wait for her to order and then double it. She opens her mouth when you pay, but closes it when you give her a pleading look.

You both sit a few rows down from Brittany and Santana in the empty theatre. They're already loudly giggling behind you and you fell like the most inadequate non-date ever. You sigh in your seat and look at the bucket of popcorn that you're holding in your lap.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asks quietly in the glow of the pre-preview advertisements.

You shake your head, "Nothing. I just…" You can't tell her now. You can't tell her that she's unknowingly and unwillingly participating in the most awkward date of your life. Non-date to be exact.

She slips her arm behind yours and hooks your arms together. Then she leans her head on yours, "You just wish that this movie would start already?"

You smile, "Exactly."

"I'm warning you now," she says as the lights dim and the first preview starts up, "I scare easily. I'll be in your lap by the end of this."

You unhook your arm from hers and loop your arm around her shoulders, "Don't worry. I'll protect you." She rests her head on your shoulder. You lean your cheek against the top of your head and can't suppress a smile. This is more like it. This feels like a date to you.

True to her word, Rachel is sitting in your lap, her arms wrapped around your neck and her face is lost between her upper arm and your cheek. You hold her around the middle of her back and soothingly rub in small circles.

"I can't watch," Rachel whispers, "I'll never sleep again."

You kiss her temple before you can stop yourself. You decide to play it off like it was nothing and assure her, "You're fine. I've got you."

You continue to watch the zombies devour the not-so-important characters and finally decide to check on Rachel again. When you tilt your head down, she happens to be starting to look up again. Your lips brush against each other and you both freeze in place. There's not a paper's width between your mouths and you see her eyes seek yours out in the dark.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to block out her mind-reading ability. Your whole body is filled with a heavy tingling. Like you're whole body has fallen asleep. Your body is acting on it's own now and you don't want to stop it. You let your head fall and your lips crash against hers.

For a moment, she completely freezes. Your hands ball into fists. You can feel it. You just fucked up royally. You start to plan your escape to Canada in your head when a small, soft hand tangles itself in your hair.

She tilts her head to get a better angle and her lips slide so deliciously against yours. This is…her lips on yours…it's stupefying. You don't feel like you're on Earth anymore. You feel like you're floating.

Her other hand cups you jaw and she deepens the kiss, dipping her head down to capture your bottom lip, running her tongue over it. She's taken over guiding this kiss so you can't do much but hold her and move your lips and tongue to accommodate her.

When her tongue tentatively dips into your mouth, your hands involuntarily clench. Her shirt is balled in your left fist right above her hip and the other hand is squeezing her thigh. Apparently you did it too hard because she jerks away from you.

Her eyes are wide and terrified when she looks at you. Her hand immediately let go of you and she covers her mouth. "Oh my god Quinn, I'm so sorry." She shakes her head and tears form in her eyes. "I didn't mean to – I just – I'm so stupid. I'm so sorry. So, so sorry." She stand up off of your lap and starts to walk out of the theatre.

"Quinn! Do something!" Santana yells at you from the back of the theatre.

You nod and run after Rachel, catching her in the long hallway leading out of the theatre. You grab her hand and pull her to you, wrapping her arms around her. She squirms a little bit before finally resting against you.

"I'm sorry," her voice is shaking, "I can't pretend anymore."

"Pretend what?" you ask her quietly. It's dark where you're standing and the loud screams from the movie are echoing around you, but you can't hear any of it. You can only see Rachel in the soft glow of the lights running along both sides of the floor.

You can feel her holding onto the back of your shirt, holding you hard against her. You feel tears in your own eyes. You know this moment is important. It's defining. It's a turning point. Which way it turns hinges on what she says next.

"I don't want to ruin this," she added pulling away from you. She tries to completely detach from you, but you don't let her. You keep your arms around her shoulders. You can see her eyes in the dark, wet with tears, looking up at you. She shakes her head, but rests her head on your chest, "It would ruin us."

"Nothing could ruin us," you assure her.

She sighs, completely deflating against your chest. "My feelings could ruin us. I shouldn't say any more."

"Rachel please tell me," you plead. You need to know _exactly_ what feelings she's talking about. You've never needed to know anything more in your life.

"I don't want to take advantage of you," she finally rests her hand on your sides, her fingers splayed to their full extent. "You're…upset and emotional. I shouldn't have kissed you."

"Why not?" you ask her, this time trying to communicate with your voice that you need her to tell you what you can tell is on the tip of her tongue.

She sniffles and you can feel her head press into your collarbone. "Because I'm so in love with you and you're vulnerable right now." You barely heard it over the unearthly moans of the undead on the screen, but you heard it nonetheless. "I'm sorry Quinn. I let you down."

"Hey," you pull back and dip your head down to get her to look at you. You're met with watery brown pools, "You didn't let me down."

"I'm supposed to be there for _you_ ," she states with conviction, "I'm supposed to be the one comforting you when you cry. Instead, I'm a mess." She looks up at the ceiling and dabs at the bottom of her eyes. She tries to step away from you and you still hold firm. That is until she takes your wrists in her hands and pulls your arms away from her.

"Rachel," you can barely choke out the whisper.

Rachel shakes her head, "I'm so, so sorry Quinn." With her head bowed, she turns back toward the door.

The door to the theatre opens and closes. When you hear the click of it shutting, you also hear the muffled sounds of cheerleading shoes on the carpet. You see Santana throw the door open and run out through blurry eyes, clouded with the all too familiar veil of tears.

When you feel Brittany pull you into her arms, you completely lose it.


	16. Stripped by Shiny Toy Guns

The car ride back to your house is nearly unbearable. You can't look at Quinn without embarrassment flushing your face and she seems to be having the same issue. Neither one of you have said a word the entire time.

When you get to your house, everyone soundlessly gets out and Santana leads the way up to your room while Brittany takes up the rear. It's like they're making sure that both of you make it all the way inside.

Once inside the room, Santana takes her usual perch by the computer chair. Brittany leans on the desk next to her, leaving you and Quinn to awkwardly sit on the bed, as far apart as possible without falling off of the bed. You look up to Santana and silently plead with her to say something. Then you glance at Quinn out of the corner of you eye, praying for her to say _anything_.

Finally you look down at the comforter under you. You can't put Quinn through this. You can't make her start a dialogue. "I was afraid this would happen," you mumble. You could feel her eyes on you the second you spoke.

There's another silence but this time, after a few tense seconds, Quinn speaks. "That what would happen?"

"That it would get awkward," you feel your chest constricting with all this emotion you're trying to contain.

She looks so lost and you want to reach across the bed and hold her. But you can't anymore. You allowed yourself to tumble from your position as her guardian. You failed her in a way you never ever wanted to.

You glance over at the two Cherrios. Brittany's long pale fingers are wrapped around Santana's upper arm and most of her face is hidden behind Santana's shoulder. Only her blue eyes peek out, surveying the scene in front of her. Santana on the other hand was as unreadable as ever with her stone face and her crossed arms.

You breathe deeply. Finally you look directly at Quinn, "I'm sorry that I couldn't control myself better. I want to be there for you Quinn. I want to take care of you. I'll continue to do that if you'll let me. I-I know that because of this you may want to sleep in separate beds."

"No," Quinn quickly said her voice dropping when she added, "I can't-I can't sleep without you."

You can't help, but let out a tiny smile at that. You don't want her to leave. Now you know she needs to speak. She knows you're not going anywhere so you finally prod, "How do you- What do…." You pause trying to gather the words. You settle on, "Are you okay?"

She tentatively meets your eyes. You can see that the hazel orbs are ready to dart away at any moment, so you remain steady and calm on the outside. On the inside though, you know that you're an emotional wreck. You know that Santana told you that Quinn has feelings for you, but you don't know the depth or extent of the feelings. You certainly don't know if they're _romantic_ feelings. You trust Santana not to fabricate such a detail, but you're scared something got lost in translation.

She nods. It's a tiny nod and you're not sure anyone else would have seen it, but you did. You want to reach out and hold her hand. You want to cradle her head against you and tell her that it'll be okay. Except this time, you're not actually sure it's going to be okay.

You watch her eyes scan Santana. You turn to Santana who squints her eyes, trying to decipher Quinn's silent, cryptic message. Finally Santana has an epiphany and lets out a guilty nod. Quinn looks down at the bed again. She sighs heavily and you think you know what they just communicated about.

Then Quinn looked out the window. The clouds that were outside have become darker and more intimidating. You know what Quinn is going to want to do. You've learned so much about her over the past few months, but this knowledge of Quinn dates back to the days when you were best friends in middle school. She loves walking around outside right before a storm hits. She loves the smell and the color of the sky. She loves the chilly, humid air on her face.

You start moving before she even looks away from the window. You can tell just by sitting in your room that it's freezing outside so you step into your shared closet and grab one of Quinn's heavy coats and one of yours. You grab matching scarves like an afterthought as you step out. She's standing at the foot of the bed like she knows what you're doing. Chances are she does know.

Normally you'd help Quinn put her jacket on, politely holding it open for her when she slides her arms in, but this time you just hand it to her. She keeps her head down, pink hair veiling her face from you as she accepts it.

You turn to Santana as you shrug on your own jacket. "Can you stay here for a while? Until we get back."

Santana automatically nods. You're grateful. You have no idea if you'll need a mediator or her special Santana brand of straightforwardness, but you'd like her here just in case.

She unexpectedly gives you a supportive squeeze on your shoulder. You meet her eyes and nod in a thank you. That meant more to you than you could properly convey with your words.

You make sure and grab your phone as you follow Quinn out of the house. You stay in step with her as best you can with your hands in your coat pockets. You don't like walking like this. You want to hold her hand and link arms. You want her to hold onto your arm as you lead the forge through the bitter wind.

There's a flash of lightning before a booming crack of thunder. It's the starting gun for the clouds. You feel the beginning stings of sleet on your face. Quinn looks behind her at you. You can see the glee in her eyes, even though it's thickly veiled in sadness. She jerks her head toward the direction you're walking and you both start trotting as the clouds release the freezing rain over you.

Somehow you're not surprised that you end up at her old house. It's empty now and it takes her a full minutes to get the right key to open the front door. That's enough time for the back of your coat to become completely drenched, soaking all the way though your shirt as you huddle under the small awning.

You shielded her from the sleet so when you both step inside, you're the only one to immediately remove your jacket. It's extremely dim inside of the house and you step to the side and flip a light switch. But nothing happens. You flip it up and down a few times and then try the ones next to it.

"The electricity got cut off," Quinn sighs, kneeling down to scoop up a pile of mail on the floor in front of the door. One of them is a blaring red that she pulls out and shows you. She sighs, "I forgot to pay it last month."

You wrap your arms around yourself and shake your head, "It's fine. We can just wait here until the storm blows over or we could call Santana to come pick us up."

"We can wait," she says, setting the mail on the entry table. She steps up next to you. Her eyes land on your hand that's hanging by your side. You feel her fingertips slide across your palm before her fingers wrap around your had. With one last moment of nervous eye contact, she pulls you into the living room.

She lets go of your hand next to the couch and walks over to the fireplace. She flips the switch next to it and a fire blazes in the fireplace. She takes your coat out of your hand and places it on the ground in front of the fireplace. You can't help, but smile. She's drying your coat for you.

"You, um…" she hesitates and tugs at the hem of your shirt, "You might want to take that off." She picks up a throw off of the couch and hands it to you.

You have to agree with her. You're starting to get a chill. You strip off your shirt and she reverently averts her eyes. She takes your shirt and lays it out next to your coat while you wrap the throw over your shoulders.

You both sit back on the couch, farther away that usual, but not completely at opposite ends of the couch. You stare into the fire for a few minutes, saturated in your own thoughts until you look over at her. There are tears in her eyes, shimmering in the firelight. You immediately move to her, wrapping your arms around her. You don't even notice that her arm hold onto your bare stomach, her fingertips grazing the back of your bra.

You're sort of hunched over and it's starting to hurt so you lean back until you're both laying on the couch, Quinn on top of you. You can feel her holding onto you hard like you'll disappear at any second. You can feel her body shaking with the sobs she's trying to fend off.

"You can't leave me," she chokes out.

You barely heard it. You tilt your head to the side, "I'll never leave you. Why would you think that?"

"Because I mess everything up," she whispers. You can finally feel her tears. They're like slow motion rain on your neck. Each one tracking a hot path down your neck before dropping onto the couch below.

You shake your head and run your fingers through her hair, "No you don't."

"I do," you sits up to look at you, her eyes pink and swollen. Tears continue to trickle steadily down her face, "I messed up my life. I messed up my parents' marriage. I messed up with Finn and with Puck. I messed up my friendship with you. I messed up mourning for my sister. I messed up my mom." Her voice escalates with every declaration of failure. "I messed up with Sam and Mercedes. I messed up my one shot at getting out of this town. Now I don't have any of those things! I don't have friends! I don't have a family! I don't have a way to get out of this town!"

You can't hold back tears no matter how much you try. The girl in front of you is broken. Utterly and completely broken. You just look at each other for the longest time, through tear-glossed eyes. Finally you need more contact with her. You tug on her shirt and she crumbles on top of you.

"You never lost me," you move your lips closer to her ear so you don't have to speak loudly. You feel like a normal volume would shatter the moment. "You'll never lose me. No matter what. No amount of slushies or tears will make me love you any less. You're my heart Quinn." You know that pouring out your heart at this moment is probably not the best thing for either of you, but at the same time it feels so right. "I'm yours Quinn. For the rest of my life. In whatever way you want me."

Her fingers wrap around the throw on one of your shoulders and she pulls you as close to her as humanly possible with it. Her head is resting in the crook of your neck.

"I can't lose you," she shakes her head, "I need you."

"You won't lose me," you reassure her again. "Everything can stay exactly the same." She becomes rigid. It's like she stopped breathing entirely. You become worried so you ask, "Quinn?"

"Do you want it to stay the same?" she asked in a tiny voice.

God, that is such a loaded question. You don't see a way where answering firmly either way would lead to a good outcome. If you're honest, you don't want things to stay the same. You love her more than friendship. But you don't want to be the one that decides which way this relationship will go. You run your fingers through her hair again and smile when she leans into your hand. "What do you want Quinn?"

She sighs heavily, deflating over you. "I don't-I don't know. I just can't lose you."

"We don't have to do anything," you assure her, although it kills you. You want to be with her in all the possible ways, but you can't and you're okay with that as long as she's still in your life.

"But I…" she whispers. She sits up and looks at your face, focusing on your eyes. You feel like she can see what you're thinking, but you can't look away. Before you know what's going on, she kisses you. Her lips are soft and hot against yours. She lays more into you and uses her lips to open your mouth, slipping her tongue inside.

You moan as soon as her tongue touches yours. Your hands crawl up her back and accidentally slip under her shirt. She arches into you as your fingertips slide across her skin. Your body is pressed harder into the couch.

You feel like you should stop this, but you can't. You don't want to. This is the greatest feeling you've ever experienced. You've never been this turned on in your life and she's just kissing you.

She breaks away from your lips and places a soft kiss on your neck before resting her forehead on your shoulder. "I just…I want to do that all the time."

"You can," you tell her.

"But…" she says, "I don't want to mess this up."

You lick your lips and can still taste her. You take a moment before adding, "Don't worry about messing it up. You can't mess it up."

"I can and I will," she says, shaking her head against your shoulder, gripping your shirt tightly in her hands.

"Quinn," you stroke her hair, "Even if you decide that you don't want to be my friend anymore – that you want absolutely nothing to do with me, I will see be here for you. You can always come back."

She's quiet for a long time and you're glad she seems to be considering what you said. Finally she takes a deep breath, "What does this mean?"

"It means whatever you want it to mean," you tell her.

She sits up and looks down at you, "I don't want to decide anymore. You're being nice because I'm a mess or whatever. What do you want?"

You know exactly how to answer her. You reach up and wipe her face clean of tears, "I want you to be happy. I want to make you happy."

A smile spreads across her face and you can feel it growing under your heads, "You do. So much happier than anyone else has ever made me."

"Then I got what I wanted," you tell her. Your voice is low and loaded with emotion. You truly want her to be happy and if you make her happy, you're elated.

She looks down at her hands that are resting on your stomach, her fingers splayed out, "This isn't just because we're together all the time. That one time at the coffee shop, you said something about having a 'love the one you're with' mentality."

You quickly shake your head to dissuade those thoughts in her. "This started…so long ago. Even when we weren't friends."

She takes a deep shaky breath, "So…do you want to…try this?" She picks up her hand to gesture between both of you and you immediately miss the warmth of it on you.

You know she's tired of you telling her that you'll do whatever she wants so you tell her, "Yeah. I want to."

She smiles again, "Me too." She brushes your bangs out of your face and cups your cheek, "Is this going to be weird? I mean we sleep in the same bed."

"It'll be just like it always is," you tell her and then lean up to kiss her softly, "But now I don't have to stop myself from doing this." You kiss her again and she giggles into it.

You continue to talk about how it could be weird, but you're both going to try to make it so that it's not so. When the sleet finally subsides you're both ready to go home and get out of the freezing house. You do realize that your new addition to your relationship hasn't been clearly defined, and you hope that that won't blow up in your face later.

As you're walking down the hallway to your room, you hear scuffling in your room. "Give them back Brittany," Santana growls, but you can sense a playfulness in her voice, "Rachel's going to kill me if she finds them." Now you're curious. You turned to Quinn who quirks and eyebrow at you, curious as well.

"What about me killing you?" Brittany asks back. More scuffling ensues, "I don't like it either."

"Fine I'll stop," Santana says, "Just…give…it…back."

You and Quinn round the corner into your room. On your bed Brittany is on her back holding something clenched tightly in her fist, above her head. Santana's laying the length of her body, reaching for the hand. Brittany quickly pulled her hand down and rolls to her side, tucking it under her.

"Brittany," Santana says, exasperated. She keeps reaching for the hand, now bent over Brittany's body sideways.

Quinn finally clears her throat. Brittany turns her head to look at you. She loses attention just long enough for Santana to grab whatever is in Brittany's hand and roll off of the bed.

Now you need to know what she has. You put your hands on your hips, "Santana."

She peeks out from the other side of the bed, looking guiltily at you. She slowly stands up, trying to subtly place something in the pocket of her jeans. You point to the ground in front of you and she slowly walks over, trying to put on a bitch face.

"Santana?" you ask lightly, "What's in your pocket?"

"Nothing," she says, her eyes bouncing from you to Quinn to Brittany and back, "It's not a big deal. I haven't smoked it in a while. I just forgot to take it out of my purse."

"Santana Lopez," you try to be stern with her because you don't approve, but you know that she has many different ways of coping with the hurt of not having Brittany. But she has her now and it's time to give them up. "Did you bring illegal narcotics into my house?"

"Not a lot," Santana weakly defends herself. "I just…" She sighs and looks you dead into the eye. She looks apologetic for sure.

You smile and give her a hug, "Just get rid of it okay?"

She nods into your shoulder and pulls away. She steps into the bathroom and you can hear her toss the bag in and flush the toilet.

When Santana returns you all pile onto the bed and pop in a movie. Quinn snuggles into your side just like always. You kiss the top of her head and you can feel her smiling. She looks up at you, glancing at Brittany and Santana who are engrossed in the movie and then places a soft kiss on your lips.


	17. You're The Storm by The Cardigans

"Quinn?" you hear Rachel calling you. You're still really zoned out so you don't answer immediately. Before you can answer, she steps into the bathroom. Her eyes fall onto you and she only hesitates for a moment before stepping into the bathtub and sitting across from you. "What's wrong?"

You don't move your head that's leaned against the pristine porcelain. You take a deep breath. "What if she's not any better?" you ask her. You lull your head back and look at the faded paint of the ceiling, "What if she's all better?"

Rachel reaches forward and rubs your knee. "We don't have to go."

"I have to," you whisper. You pick up the bottle next to you and take another drink.

"Quinn," she softly sighs. She reaches forward. You willingly surrender the bottle. There's a cold clink of glass on the tile as she sets it outside of the tub on the ground.

She pushes up onto her knees and cups your face. She kisses your forehead. You smile at the action and rest her fingertips on her cheek, your thumb strokes her jaw. Her skin is so soft and warm.

"I'll be with you the whole time okay?" she tells you.

You nod and close your eyes as she runs her fingers though your hair. You love it when she does that, and you think that she knows it. You pull her down between your legs, and she holds you around your waist, her head softly falling to rest on your shoulder.

"Is this one of your new shirts?" she asks, rubbing her hand over you stomach.

Your abs tense, and your teeth clench. You don't know when such touches became so arousing for you. It was probably the first time you kissed her. The first time you felt her lips against yours, everything shifted. After a deep breath through your nose, you nod. "Yeah."

"I like it," she says, giving your stomach a soft pat, sliding her arm around your waist.

Footsteps approach the bathroom and you peer up over the side of the bathtub to see Santana standing in the doorway of the bathroom. Her arms are crossed, and her eyebrow is quirked. When she sees you looking, she smirks, "Are I pretending that this is normal or can I say how fucking weird it is that you're laying in an empty bathtub?"

"It's normal," Rachel smiles. "Hi, Santana."

"Hey," she smiles, "I just came to get Brittany's jacket."

"It's hanging in the closet," Rachel says and gets up, "I'll get it."

With the warmth of Rachel gone, you get out of the bathtub and follow her out. Santana sits on the edge of the bed while Rachel disappears into your closet. You sit next to Santana, closer than you usually would. She smiles and slips an arm around across the small of your back. "Today's the day, huh?"

You nod, leaning your head against hers. You take a deep breath. "Where's Brittany?"

"She's having breakfast with her family," Santana rests her chin on your shoulder, "They invited me and all, but…"

You don't need her to finish her thought. You know how it feels. When your whole family is in shambles, like Santana's family is always missing, it's hard to watch functional families knowing that you'll never have that.

"What are you going to do?" you ask her.

"I'm going over to Puck's house," she explains. You sit up a little bit and look back at her. You know he turned into a sex shark again since Lauren dumped him. You don't want Santana to revert back to her old ways. She seems to know what you're thinking, like she usually does, and rolls her eyes. "He just got a new game and he Mike's busy with Tina and Artie's doing something…nerdy. Who cares what Finn's doing? Drawing stick figures on a cave wall or something. Puck's sad and stuff and since you and Rachel have turned me all soft, I couldn't say no when he asked if I would come over and play with him."

"As long as you're not playing with him," you tell her.

She playfully swats your shoulder and pulls away, "The only person I want to play with is Brittany." She trailed off, mumbling, "And that's not happening."

"Why not?" you ask her.

She shrugs, "I have no idea." She looks up when Rachel emerges from the closet with Brittany's Cheerio jacket. She smiles at Rachel and stands, "Thanks." She takes the jacket and hugs Rachel. "I'll see you two when you get back. Maybe we can go eat or something?"

"Sure," Rachel nods.

Santana walks out the door, slipping Brittany's jacket on.

"Do you think it's because they don't trust each other?" you ask Rachel as she sits down.

She picks your hand up off of your leg and turns it over, tracing the lines on your palm. "Brittany and Santana?"

You nod.

Her mouth scrunches up to one side for a moment before she answers, her eyes on your hand. "I don't know. I've thought about it because it's upsetting Santana. I can tell. Didn't they have sex like, all the time before they officially got together?"

A small smile breaks out on your face. "Yeah, and it didn't really matter where they were either."

She sighs and turns your hand back over, bringing the back of your hand to her lips. You smile at her. Everyone knows that Rachel's a diva and, because of that, most of them don't realize how sweet she actually is. No one makes you feel the way she does. She makes you feel more loved than you have in your entire life.

You bite your lip because just the thought of kissing her leaves you breathless. You tilt your head down so that your forehead is touching hers. You can see her eyes meeting yours. A gorgeous smile crosses her face. You both move in together, her lips brushing yours lightly before you lean in more.

The sound of footsteps moving towards the open bedroom door pulls you apart. You haven't told Rachel's dads yet. You don't know why Rachel hasn't, but you're scared that they'll make you move into the guest room. You love living with Rachel. You love falling asleep with her and waking up to her smiling face, already on the elliptical. You love how your room smells like a mixture of both of your perfumes and how in the mornings when you're both picking out what to wear, you're standing back to back, talking through your wardrobes, blending your accessories and helping each other piece together outfits. Besides, neither one of you has officially labeled it, so you wouldn't know what to say even if you wanted to tell them.

You're both looking at the door when Daddy appears. He looks like he's trying to contain some kind of anxiety mixed with worry. His large hands find their way to the door frame, "You girls ready?"

Rachel turns back to you, waiting for your answer. You take a deep breath and nod, "Yeah."

"We'll be down in the car," Daddy gives you a hopeful smile and then taps the door frame as he walks off.

"Are you going to be okay?" Rachel asks softly.

You close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath. "You'll be there?"

"The whole time," Rachel nods. She takes your hand, her fingers sliding between yours.

You take another breath, "Okay. I'm ready."

The car ride to the treatment center is an anxious one for you. You dread it, and you spend most of the trip lying across the backseat with your head in Rachel's lap as she strokes your hair. You're both listening to her mp3 player. Apparently she made a playlist for the trip. All the songs are calming, mostly just piano and vocals. Because you only have one earbud in, you can hear her humming along with the music.

As the car descends onto a gravel road, you sit up. You can't see anything outside of the winding road that is wedged between hundreds of huge trees. You finally see a sign welcoming you. It's in the middle of the last curve. A huge house comes into view behind a circular driveway.

As you approach, you can see the grounds that expand beyond the building. A large pond is off to the side and, in the opposite direction, there is a large structure that looks sort of like a barn. You don't remember reading about horses in the brochure. Maybe you did. You just... don't remember.

You're greeted under the carport by a smiling man holding a clipboard. He's clean cut in every way you can think of, his brown hair perfectly styled. Another man in a uniform walks out and takes the keys to the car from Dad.

You all walk up to the man with the clipboard together, Rachel's hand in yours. "Fabray?" he asks simply.

You nod and tighten your grip on Rachel's hand. You feel like something is crushing your chest, and you can't breathe.

He smiles at you specifically and places a hand on your shoulder, "You must be Quinn. I'm Jack."

You have the overwhelming urge to slap his hand off of you. Rachel seems to sense this and takes a step forward towards Jack. He drops his hand and glances at his clipboard. "If you'll follow me, we'll get you all checked in."

All metal or sharp objects are taken from you. You're all instructed not to remove any belts or shoelaces. Your cell phones are taken as well as Rachel's purse. You feel bad that all the Berrys had to go through that, but none of them are complaining. In fact, they do it all with smiles on their faces.

You're then lead through the huge common areas with vaulted ceilings. Inside it looks like a giant cabin with wooden beams in the ceiling and dark paneled walls. Jack rattles on about progress and how you shouldn't raise your expectations too much. You can't hear him. Everything around you is white noise.

There's a large room at the end of the hallway with walls of bookshelves and sitting areas all over the place. You can see her sitting on a couch in the corner.

You don't realize that you've stopped walking until you see that everyone is looking at you. You feel Rachel's hand disengage from yours and slip around your waist. "It's okay," she whispers, "We're right here."

You let out a small nod. Then the group starts moving again. Finally, you're standing a few meters from your mother. She's watching the fire in the huge fireplace burn in front of her. You don't expect her to look up when you take your seat at the opposite end of the couch from her, but when she does and you realize that she actually _sees_ you, it takes all you have not to break down and start sobbing.

"If you need anything," Jack says, "I'll be over here."

You don't look up to where he's surely pointing. You're staring at your mom. And she's staring back. And she _sees_ you.

You can feel Rachel's arms around your waist, trying to comfort you in any way that she can. Your mom opens her mouth, but closes it again and breaks eye contact.

You don't know why you do it, but you start talking. "Sectionals is in two weeks." You lick your lips and take a breath. You make sure your mom is listening before you go on, "Mr. Schue has us on this stupid project where we're in pairs that we picked out of a hat." You rattle on about everything from Brittany and Santana's mess to the weather to the new entrees at Breadstix. You don't realize that you've been talking for two hours until Jack comes to tell you that visiting hours are over.

You take a deep breath and nod. You don't think you could handle talking to her anymore without her responding. You stand up, and Rachel stands with you. Dad and Daddy stand from the love seat they were sharing. You don't know what makes you do it, but you sit down again, this time next to your mom. You put your arms around her and kiss her cheek. "It'll be okay. I love you."

Of course, when you get into the car, you lose it. You cling to Rachel as you sob uncontrollably.

You get a hold of yourself as you cross into Ohio where you all stop to eat a late lunch. Santana texts you a few times to make sure you're okay. Every time you tell her that you are and every time she doesn't believe you.

Now you're lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling. You close your eyes and imagine yourself three years ago. You had a dad. You had a sister. You had a mom. You had a boyfriend and a reputation as being the HBIC. You ruled the school with an iron fist. You mercilessly slushied people, including your recently ex-best friend Rachel Berry.

Now you have no idea where you'd be without the girl you made fun of and slushied. The girl you made cry. You're absolutely gutted about how you treated her. You vow now that you'll make it up to her. You'll take care of her and support her anyway you can.

You look up when you hear Rachel re-enter the room. She can't contain a giant smile. She has a piece of paper in her hand and hands it to you. After you read it over you smile up at her, "You got an audition. Congratulations." You pull her onto the bed into a bear hug.

There are tears in her eyes when she pulls away, "I have an audition."

She's pretty much lying on top of you and you look up at her knowing that she's the most beautiful person in the world. Now her dreams are coming true. She got an audition to Juilliard because she's been working towards it for years. "I'm so proud of you."

She smiles at you and her lips crash into yours. Suddenly, she pulls away from what you were sure was turning into a full-fledged make out session. "Where are you going to school?"

You shrug. You haven't applied anywhere. You've had other things on your mind.

"Well, are you still looking at moving to New York?" she asks, rolling to her side so she's next to you.

You nod. That's not even a question. Rachel's going to get into Juilliard. That's pretty much a given. Therefore, you're moving to New York.

"Okay," Rachel nods, "Well, what do you think you'd want to study? There's NYU and Columbia and Cornell has a New York City campus…." She trails off, "Unless you don't want to go to school."

"I don't even know what I want to do," you sigh.

Rachel bites her lip, "You know when we were younger, you used to talk about Ohio State. What did you want to study there?"

"I just wanted to go there because my sister went there," you say quietly. "I didn't know what I wanted to study. I guess I should go to college though."

Rachel grins and rolls onto her back picking up her laptop off of the nightstand. She opens it. "Well, time is of the essence. I'll just apply everywhere for you and when they all decide that they need you to go to their school, you can pick."

You smile and rest your head on her shoulder watching her open up the web pages for all the big name universities in New York City. It seems like a good idea, going to college. You can't just wait around all the time while Rachel is in class and eventually, you're going to run out of money.

Then she opens up the common application and starts filling it out for you. You're surprised what she does know about you. She does have to ask for your social security number and driver's license number, but everything else is pretty much from memory. You still have to write an essay, get your transcript and get a letter of recommendation, but you're sure that those won't be too hard. Rachel says that she'll go with you go get your transcript and letter of recommendation tomorrow at school. Then she'll proofread your essay when you finish it. You feel like there's a little hope there. You may get to go to college. In New York. With Rachel.

The next day at school, you shyly ask Mr. Schue for a letter of recommendation which he promises to get to you by the end of the day. Then at lunch, you go with Rachel to get your transcript sent off. She convinces them to overnight it to the schools you want to go to and readily pays for it. You try to protest, but it's not like you could ever change her mind.

After school, she takes Mr. Schue's letter to the post office herself to send it off while you're at practice.

"Quinn," Dad calls to you as you step into the kitchen to get something to drink.

You look over at him, sitting at the kitchen table looking at the mail. There's a letter open in his hand. It looks like a bank statement to you from where you are. You take your water over to the table where he is and sit in the chair perpendicular to him.

He hands you the letter, "Notice anything particular about that?"

You look it over. You've seen this before. It's Rachel's college fund statement. You look over the numbers each month that are being consistently put into the account. Then, this month, the largest contribution was made. You try your best not to look guilty as you hand it back to him, "Not really."

"Quinn," he says, "Rachel's father and I did not put two hundred and fifty thousand dollars into this account this month."

You know you've been caught. You were hoping that they wouldn't notice so soon. You scratch your neck. "Well, I don't think that…you've all done so much for me. And Rachel deserves the best. She deserves to not have to worry about tuition or loans or eating well. You guys shouldn't have to either. Especially since you could have been putting in more money if you weren't taking care of me and stuff…" you trail off. You really don't want him to be mad at you, "It's for Rachel. She's going places and I'm just going to follow her."

He looks at you over the rim of his glasses, "Even if you hadn't been here-"

You cut him off, "I'm not taking the money back. You can keep it in that account where it'll get the best interest rate or I'll wait until she gets accepted and pay her tuition online all at once. It's up to you."

You can tell that he doesn't like that you just basically told him how it was going to be, but eventually, he nods. "Well, Quinn, since I know that you and Rachel are going together to New York, I'll…leave the money in the account, but your name is going on the account too."

You think it over and finally nod, "Fine." You're not going to actually use the account.

With a warm smile he shakes his head at you, "Be careful, my dear. You're playing a dangerous game."

You smile back at him and rise from the table, "My favorite kind."

He laughs and you laugh with him before you head back to your room.

"So," Rachel stands up and turns her laptop towards you. The look on her face is pure excitement. "Some theatres have a student discount and some of them we could get in absolutely free. Can you imagine being able to walk down the street and go see a show? It's going to be amazing, Quinn."

You can't help but smile at her excitement. This is the first time you've thought about actually having a future since this summer. You'll do anything you can to keep that look of excitement on Rachel's face. You'll take her to Broadway and to see all the things she wants to see. You never want her to fall out of love with the city of her dreams.

She puts her laptop down and pulls you onto the bed. You sit next to her and she picks up your hand, "I'm not forcing you to come with me, am I? I know some people don't like New York or anything. You don't have to come with me."

You smile at her and kiss her cheek. "I already decided that New York is where I'm going."

"Do you still want to get an apartment together?" she asks meekly.

"Of course," you tell her with a grin, "It'd be way too hard to sort out our clothes. I don't even remember what all is mine and what's yours."

She laughs and moves herself so that she's straddling your lap. You run hand hands up and down her thighs as she drapes her arms over your shoulders. "So it'll be you and me in New York?"

"If you still like me by then," you tell her, searching her eyes for any sign of doubt.

She pecks your lips and only pulls away a few centimeters before replying, "I can't wait to move to New York with you." Then she dives back in, her force making you fall onto your back.


	18. Come On Get Higher by Matt Nathanson

"Are you excited for Vermont?" you ask her as she moves around the bedroom, packing all of her things.

She pushes her hair out of her eyes. It's past the shaggy point now and she looks more grown up. It may be that the pink is growing out and her blonde is starting to show. It's astounding to you that a few inches of hair make that much difference. It also could be the stress of caring for a mother who has yet to say anything to her in seven visits to the residential rehabilitation facility. You just sit there and watch her talk. She tells her mom everything…well not everything. You get a casual mention here or there, but nothing more than that. You know you shouldn't be upset about it, but you are a little bit.

She gives you a smile that you know isn't fully happy. She seems apprehensive, but nods, "Yeah. Definitely. I've never been."

You don't know how to assure her that her mom will be okay for the four days you're out of the state. You don't think you can so you stride over to her, pulling her around the waist to you. She pauses what she was doing, unsure of what you're doing, but after a few seconds she tosses the shirt in her hand onto the bed and wraps herself around you.

Sometimes you forget how much taller she is than you because you're usually sitting or laying with her if you're not constantly moving. Her neck bends down so that her face is lost in the shoulder of your heavy sweater.

"It'll be okay," you tell her in a soft voice, befitting the moment.

A shaky breath tells you that she's not entirely sure about that. You're out of words to reassure her. You've told her everything you could. You've used up all of the reassuring words in your vocabulary. Now all you can do is hold her, hoping that that's enough.

Quinn pulls away from you and shakes her head. "I'm fine. I promise." She turns back to her suitcase, picking up a shirt to fold it.

You walk up behind her and hold her around the waist, kissing the curve of her neck. "It'll be really romantic." You change the subject, hoping that this works in getting her to smile.

"Oh yeah?" You can hear the faint smile in her voice.

"Mhmm," you murmur, kissing right behind her ear. "I looked up out lodge and we'll have a hot tub on the balcony and a fireplace in our own bedroom."

She turns her head toward you, "Our own room?"

You nod against her shoulder. There's something in her voice that makes you think she's not entirely happy about that. Maybe it's the pitch or the tone…maybe the volume. Probably all three. You loosen your arms around her and take a step to her side. "I-I can sleep on the couch in the living room if you want. I understand that you may want to use this opportunity-"

There is clear panic in her voice now. "No!…" She blushes deeply at her outburst. "I mean, I can't…" her eyes meet the ground with a brief pause, "sleep without you." Her eyes tentatively meet yours and she sees your smile, finally breaking out in her own. You completely melt at her smile. You've never wanted to see anyone smile more than you want to see her heart-stopping smile.

She finally slips her arms around your shoulders. She takes a deep breath. "I just…I don't know if I'm ready for…"

You take your turn blushing. "Oh no, Quinn…That's definitely not what I was inferring. I didn't even think about…" Your eyes widen, realizing what she could be inferring from what you're saying now. "Not that I don't want to have…." She mumble something incoherent then ramble on, "with you, or…" If possible your eyes grow wider. "Not that I think about it all the time or anything…or at all…" Words are falling out of your mouth faster than you can stop them. "Not that you're not attractive. Quite the contrary. You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen….Not that that should be the only requirement for having relations of a sexual nature with someone. I just…." You pause your ramble when you realize that she's having a hearty chuckle while you're trying desperately not to offend her.

"You were just going to let me talk until I passed out weren't you?" You accuse with a playful poke to her sternum.

She just giggles and nods. She places a kiss on your forehead and smiles sweetly. "Don't worry. I just wanted to let you know that I'm not ready for…that yet. I know you want to wait until you're twenty-five or completely in love, but snow and fires and hot tubs do things to people."

You understand. "Of course." You rock onto your toes and kiss her lightly on her pink lips. "I'll try to keep my hands to myself."

"Girls!" your daddy calls from somewhere downstairs, "Are you all packed?"

You raise your eyebrows at Quinn asking her if she's all packed. She nods and turns back to her suitcase, closing and zipping it up. You call back to your daddy, adding that you'll bring them down in a minute.

" I'm sorry that I didn't warn you that daddy likes to pack the car, the day before we go somewhere," you say to her as you lug your own suitcase to the door.

"It's fine," she replies, "I was pretty much already all packed."

You both take your suitcases downstairs and place them by the front door. You both walk back up the stairs and lay on your back daydreaming about how beautiful it will be in Vermont.

The next day you take off early in the morning. Quinn waits to get into the car with you. It's a chilly day and you can see her long exhales in the puffs of steam emitting from her, mixing with the steam from the two mugs of coffee she's holding. Her cheeks are pink, but her smile is full. As you near, she hands you your coffee and opens the backseat door for you.

You glance at the door where your dads are walking back into the house, doing their last minute sweep for anything they may have forgotten.

You give Quinn a quick kiss, tasting coffee and her intoxicating lips that you feel like you can never get enough of. She smiles when you pull away. You slide into the car and scoot over so that she can sit next to you.

Half an hour into the trip, you start nodding off on Quinn's shoulder. You finally end up going to sleep and wake up at the sign announcing that you're leaving Ohio and entering Pennsylvania. There will only be an other half an hour before you reach the rehabilitation facility.

Suddenly you're wide-awake. You look to Quinn who is staring out the window, a pensive look on her face. You want to know if she's okay, but you want her to have her space. So you take her hand, just letting her know that you're awake and here for her.

She glances at you and lets out a tight smile. You squeeze her hand trying to silently communicate with her that you'll do whatever she needs. She just squeezes you hand back before looking out the window.

She doesn't look back at you until you arrive, but it's still just a glance. She sits in the car under the awning. She doesn't move to get out. She bites her lip and looks at up at your dads. "I want to go in by myself."

You're all stunned by it. She usually refuses to go in without at least two of you. Your daddy turns in his seat to look at her. "If you're sure."

She nods and opens her door, giving you an apologetic look before exiting the car. As soon as the door is close you turn to your dads. "Are you sure that was such a good idea?"

"If she wasn't ready, she would have taken us with her," your daddy explains. "I think it's a big step for her in the right direction."

You look down at your knees. You know it is. You also know that it's a big step away from her needing you. She doesn't need you to hold her hand when she talks to her mom. She won't need you to go with her to her old house. You won't need to hold her while she sleeps or make sure she eat. Maybe she won't need you at all soon. Then where will you be?

That question swirls around in your brain until she comes back. Quinn dives into the backseat and throws her arms around you. You're confused because she's laughing and crying all at once, but you don't want to take this for granted so you just hold her.

"What happened?" your dad asks craning his neck around in the front seat.

Quinn sniffles and sits up, wiping her face. "She talked to me. I told her that we were going skiing in Vermont and she told me to be safe and that she loved me. Then she asked why my hair was pink and some other stuff." Quinn grinned and looked at you like you were the one that gave her mom the power of speech again. She hugs you close to her and starts sobbing again.

She may not need you soon, but if that means she's happy like this then you'll take it.

You get on your flight to Vermont in Pittsburg where Quinn promptly falls asleep. You can't be mad or sad or disappointed that she won't need you because of that smile on her face. She's getting closer to normal and that makes you happy.

Before you land you wake Quinn up so that she see the snow covered mountains. She leans over you, completely awestruck. You trace every feature on her face. She's so beautiful – inside and out. You feel so lucky to have her. Even if it won't last much longer. Because when she's back to being okay, people will be falling all over themselves to ask her out, but you'll still be you. Your throat constricts and you feel like you can't breathe.

"Rachel?" she asks, "Are you okay?"

You blink back into focus and find her looking at you, concerned. You just smile nervously at her, "Landings make me nervous."

She smiles sweetly and threads her fingers through yours. "Don't worry. I've got you."

You close your eyes and rest your head on her shoulder. The way your hands fit together is uncanny, like one was made to hold the other. You feel her drop a kiss on the top of your head and everything feels right. In that moment all of your fears about her not needing you anymore equating to her leaving you are silly and paranoid.

The suite in the mountainside lodge you're staying in is even more beautiful than online. The walls are wooden. There is a rocked fireplace in every room, including yours and Quinn's room. As your request, any animal furs that may have been in the cabin have been removed and replaced with plush, rich rugs.

"Rachel!" Quinn calls. She wondered off and you follow her voice out to the balcony. She's standing on the other side of the hot tub, looking at the untouched snowy mountain. If you look to your left and lean over the rail a little, you can see the ski mountain, but you have a view at the most natural beauty you've ever seen. She's gazing at the mountain like it holds all the secrets to the universe and if she looks long enough or hard enough, it'll tell her.

She turns to you, "It's so beautiful." She walks over to you and hugs you. Then she sees your dads behind you and runs over to them, thanking them profusely for letting her come. They both laugh and tell her that she doesn't have thank them. She's family.

You watch them both hug Quinn and joke around with her. That brings the sweetest of smiles to your lips. They all fit together. In every way, Quinn fits into your life, like it was made to hold her.

"C'mon Rachel," your dad calls, "Let's go get out skis and see if any of us remember how to do this."

"Oh my god," you bury your face in your shoulder.

"Are you scared?" she asks with an amused smile. You can feel her put her arm around you and you peek out to watch your skis dangle over the side of the mountain.

You answer with a simple "no" but you know she knows you're lying. You hold onto her, your fingers gripping the smooth surface of her ski coat, like she can save you from falling.

"Haven't you done this ever year since you were little?" Quinn asked, smoothing your hair back in the black headband that covered your ears as well.

You feel sheepish for acting like this. You feel like you should be comforting her because she's the one that's never been here before but… "I've never been on this particular hill before. Or this… far off of the ground."

She glances behind you, no doubt watching your dads get onto the lift behind you with a practiced ease. You lean into her, wrapping your arms around her waist. She chuckles, telling you, "Don't worry. I've got you." Then she giggles and sings, "I've got you babe. I've got you babe."

You laughs and loosen your grip on her. "Just let me know when we get to the top."

"Okay," she brushes the hair out of your face. "We're almost ther-" She stops talking because the lift slowly drags to a stop. You look behind you and past your dads and two more chairs, you see a couple struggling to get onto the stopped lift. Your arms constrict around Quinn.

"It's okay," she tells her, "They just stopped the lift because some people are having a hard time. It'll start moving in a second."

"Why don't we go to the beach for a weekend in December?" you mutter, your face making it's home in her shoulder again.

She chuckles, "Well if you went to the beach, we'd have to worry about sharks."

"Oh my god, I'm never going anywhere with you again," you say, joking…sort of.

You can feel her smile as she kissed your forehead. "Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise."

After a minute or two of sitting stationary, thirty feet above the mountainside she says into her hair, "You know it's really beautiful up here."

You opens one eye and then the other. Then carefully pick up your head, keeping your actions smooth and seamless, like if any are sudden, the whole structure will collapse. You take in the view, panning your eyes across the horizon before stopping at her. A wide grin spreads across her face as you answer. "It is beautiful."

She tenderly strokes your side with her fingers, " So are you."

You feel a blush inch up your cheeks. You'll never get used to that. Especially from the most beautiful girl you've ever met.

She takes off her sunglasses and places them on your face, covering your eyes. With a smile she tells you that you look like Jackie O. You didn't tell her that that was the look you were going for so the compliment is all that much more gratifying. You readjust your headband and make a kissy face.

She snaps a picture with her phone before you can stop her. You try to grab her phone, but she tucks it back into her pocket. Your grab though, made the chair shake so you dive into her lap and hold onto her.

She strokes your hair, "Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry."

You take a deep breath, but don't move your head from her lap. You feel bad because this is her first time here and she's comforting you. "No. I'm okay. I'm just freaking out."

She chuckles, "Well, I know that." She continues stroking your hair doing her best to sooth you. "But it's okay, because I won't let you fall."

You take a deep breath and close your eyes trying to rationalize. You feel her fingers tenderly stroking your hair and massaging your scalp. She dips her head down and starts singing softly to you.

_I miss the sound of your voice_

_And I miss the rush of your skin_

_And I miss the still of the silence_

_As you breathe out and I breathe in_

_If I could walk on water, if I could tell you what's next_

_Make you believe, make you forget_

_So come on get higher, loosen my lips_

_Faith and desire at the swing of your hips_

_Just throw me down hard_

_And drown me in love_

Not only does her voice calm you, it's completely arouses ever sense you have. You can hear every breath between verses. You can feel her fingers glide over you as she strokes yours cheek. You can see her acting out this song in your head. Your relaxed breaths become labored.

She giggles and you blush because you think she's laughing at you. But when you open your eyes and look up at her she's looking behind you. "I think they're giving up."

"Who?" you ask, just looking up at her. Her face is framed in an impossibly blue sky streaked with ribbon like grey clouds.

She removes her sunglasses from her face and puts them back on her eyes. "The people that stopped the lift. We'll be moving soon."

You smile up at her. What can probably only be described as a dopey smile of utter contentment. She smiles back down at you, dipping her head down for a soft kiss.

The lift finally gets moving with a jerk that has you almost breaking Quinn's arm. She just laughs and follows you down the mountain. After a few times up and down the mountain, you get used to the lift and are okay with it. You even take a few pictures of the view and Quinn as she's looking out at the skyline.

As the sun starts to set, you all call it a night. It's been a long day so you eat at the little diner in the lodge and head to your rooms to find fires lit in every fireplace. You look at the bed that you'll be sharing with Quinn. The quilted comforter is to make the room have a woodsy feel, but it's almost undecipherable in the firelight. Shadows dance on the walls and across the bed. You remove your jacket and ski clothes, quickly changing into a silk nighty. It's chilly in the room so you quickly move to the bed and shimmy under the covers.

The bed is more comfortable than it looks and you place your head on the pillow behind you. You move it a little to the side so that you can see the fire. It's a beautiful thing and it's warming the room.

You've been staring at it for at least ten minutes when you hear the door click closed. Your eyes take time to adjust so you just see Quinn's silhouette against the dark walls move to her bag before crawling into bed.

You pull her to you when she's under the covers and she burrows into your, her chilled skin seeking warmth against yours. You rub her arms, trying to make her warmer.

"I had fun today," she smiles, her head resting on your pillow. Her hair falls away from her face and her eyes reflect the fire.

"Me too," you smile. It's true. You've had more fun today than you have in all your past Vermont trips put together. This time you have someone to spend it with. Someone you love. Someone whose kisses stop the world. Someone whose smile could stop wars. Someone who's always been there, but barely out of reach. She's here now. She's yours now and you can't stop the smile that springs from that knowledge.

She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and looks into your eyes. "This is perfect huh?"

You nod lightly, your smile never falling from your face. You can't think of anything that would make this moment any better.

"I love you," she whispers, her eyes locked onto yours.

That's the first time she's said that to you directly. You always kind of had to infer from the whole movie theatre debacle. You hold her eyes echoing her words. "So much."

She moves forward and you meet her in the middle. It's a kiss of promise. It's slow and easy. It's not forceful in anyway. When she finally pulls away, she snuggles into you and you find yourselves in your regular sleeping positions. You're not sure if she's asleep when you finally close your eyes and let yourself float away.


	19. Everyday Is A Holiday by Esthero

Rachel is gliding around you with relative ease while you feel like you'll fall over if she passes by you too quickly. You've ice-skated maybe three times in your life and you're pretty sure that it was all under the age of ten.

She turns around in front of you, skating backwards, "C'mon Quinn. Stop holding onto the wall."

You roll your eyes, "Now you're just trying to make me look bad."

You can see her eyes outline your hair again. You took off early in the morning and went to get your hair dyed back to honey tinted blonde. You got a little style too and when you rejoined the Berrys for breakfast, they all were awestruck. You're not sure it that's a bad thing or a good thing, but Rachel can't stop looking at your hair so you'll mark this as a win.

Of course it does make you a little self conscious, so you run your hand through it. "Stop looking at my hair."

"Sorry," she smiles at you, taking your hand and pulling your on your shaky blades, "It's just that…you look so beautiful. More mature. It's gorgeous."

You blush even though you're so close to falling that you can already feel the wet, cold ice on your ass. Or that could be your last fall. Rachel's dads are skating around like the do this all the time. They're holding hands, laughing like they're in love in high school again.

You look down at Rachel's skates that as swaying in soft waves in front of you. "You're just trying to make me look bad."

"There's no way you ever look bad," she says with a wink. You love this side of Rachel. She's so playful here. Like she doesn't have any cares or worries. Like she hasn't been holding you every night as you cry yourself to sleep for months. Like she hasn't been keeping you and Santana from starting your own two person fight club – or drunk club. She's done so much for you.

And when you talked to your mom before this trip and _she_ _talked back_ , you finally felt like things would be okay. You feel like there's hope for the future. There's a reason for you to keep moving on. Because the second your mom opened her mouth to ask you what happened to your hair, you thought of Rachel. You wanted her to be there to witness that. You wanted to hold her hand and look over to see the smile on her face. You feel like there will be a lot a more moments in your life where you'll want to look next to you and see her there.

"Would you like to go skiing again this afternoon?" Rachel asks, "Or sledding?" Her eyes get wide and they light up, "There's this fantastic place where you can go snowmobiling."

"Whatever you want," you tell her. You honestly don't care. You just want to be with her.

She opens her mouth to answer when "Damn it feels good to be a gangsta," comes from seemingly nowhere. Rachel looked around and then pulls her phone out of her pocket. It's obvious now where the Geto Boys anthem is coming from now. She shows you the screen. Santana is winking back at you.

"That's the last time I leave Santana alone with my phone," Rachel mutters before answering her phone. "You're in big trouble Lopez." She pauses to laugh before asking you where your phone is. You tell her that you left it in your room to charge and she tells this to Santana.

"That's sweet of you to check Santana. Would you like to speak to her?" Rachel asks, doing a little twirl while you grab onto the outer wall to keep from falling. She skates next to you and hands you her phone.

When you take it, she skates off to catch up to her dads. She taps her daddy on the shoulder and skates off, leaving them to chase after her. You can't help, but smile.

"Hey S," you finally remember that you have a phone to your ear.

Santana is quiet and seems hesitant, "Hey. I didn't get a chance to call yesterday and ask how it went with your mom."

You smile. This is the Santana that not many people see. Actually up until a few months ago, you only saw this Santana when you were pregnant and no one else was around. You figure that this is what only Brittany has been privy to all these years. "Thanks for calling. She actually talked to me."

"Really?" she says, sincerely excited for you.

"Yeah," you lean back against the wall. You finally decide that you're done skating. You have more fun watching Rachel skate. You step off of the ice and onto the black mat where the benches are.

You start untying your skates when Santana asks, "What did you say to her?"

"I was just telling her about the trip and stuff and then I…" you pause. You haven't even told Rachel this part, but you have to tell someone. "I told her about me and Rachel."

"Like _everything_?" she asks.

"Yeah," you pull off your skates and look around the bench for your boots. You grab them and pull one on and then the other one. "I told her everything. I was out of things to tell her. I told her about you and Brittany a week ago."

"So what did she say?" Santana asks.

"She told me that she loved me and asked what was wrong with my hair," you chuckle, "Oh yeah. I went to get my hair dyed this morning. Back to blonde."

"Send pics," she replies, "If you're going to ruin my dye job, it better be damn fine."

"Have I ever not been damn fine?" you ask back. It seems Rachel's playful mood has rubbed off on you.

Santana snorts, "Sorry honey, I've only thought one blonde was damn fine my whole life."

"Brittany's sitting right next to you isn't she?" you ask.

"Actually no," Santana answers, "She's on her way to pick me up. No cracks about me being whipped or I'll burn all of Rachel's sinfully short skirts."

"I'll murder you," you state, watching as Rachel waves at you, flying by. You smile and wave back.

"So are you getting any up in the mountains?" she asks bluntly, "It's all romantic and shit right?"

You watch Rachel laugh as her dad finally catches up to her. You feel a little disappointed because part of you really to, but you really don't want to mess this up. Plus you doubt that she's ready. As far as you know, she's sticking to her twenty-five plan. "No. I mean, I told her before we left that I wasn't ready."

"Is that true?" Santana asks. You can hear rustling in the background like she's moving around.

You take a deep breath. "I think so. I mean, I don't even know if she'd want to so it doesn't matter."

"Oh trust me," Santana pauses and you hear more rustling, "She wants to. Do you know where Rachel's dads keep the – oh wait. I found them."

"Are you at Rachel's house?" you ask her. Then you remember what she said before, "She does?"

"Yes and yes," Santana states nonchalantly. "The way Rachel looks at you sometimes… like a lion that hasn't eaten in years."

"Why are you at our house?" you ask. Yes you do realize that you just said 'our' instead of 'her', but you do live there now. Maybe not for much longer because your mom is getting better, but you'll burn that bridge when you get there.

It sounds like Santana is eating and answers with a mouthful of something. "Rachel gave me a key and told me to come over if I wanted to. I like it over here better even when there's no one here. It's better than my house."

You nod even though she can't see it. "Yeah. I get it."

"Anyway, I'm gonna finish this cereal and shower before Britts gets here," she adds with a clear mouth, "Talk to you later. Call me before you get back so can make sure this place is all clean."

"Cool," you tell her, "How are you and Britt?"

"I'm still the president of the celibacy club," she drones. "Oooh, The Hills is on. Gotta go." She hangs up on you before you can reply. You look at Rachel's phone to confirm that she did just ditch you for a reality show.

"Are you done skating already?" Rachel asks from the edge of the ice.

You nod. "I'm not much of a skater. I'm going to go get some cocoa though. Do you want one?"

She smiles and steps off of the ice, "I'll come with you."

You start to argue with her, but she's already taking her skates off and you sort of want to tell her about what you said to your mom. You found out that it wasn't that big of a deal when you told Santana. You hope Rachel won't be mad at you.

In the lodge's café, Rachel gets a soy latte and you abandon your cocoa idea for a more caffeinated beverage. You sit down in front of a roaring fireplace in the main room of the lodge on a more than spacious couch.

"So…" Rachel swallows like she's nervous, which makes you nervous. "I have something to tell you."

"I have something to tell you too, but you go first," you reply, wanting to know what has her nervous.

She shakes her head, "That's not fair, telling me you have something to tell me too. Now I'm twice as nervous because I have no idea what you're going to say."

You laugh and shake your head. "It's not bad. It's just…do you want me to go first?"

She nods vigorously and you get an ominous feeling about what she's going to tell you because she's so quick to gain your 'something.'

"Well you start," you look carefully at your coffee cup, running a light finger over the smooth side, "I told my mom…about us."

"You…." Rachel's eyes are wide and her mouth is slightly open. "You did?"

That's not what you were expecting and you feel horrible about it, "Did you not want me to? I…didn't know and I ran out of things to say and…I'm sorry. I should have asked you."

"No, no, no," Rachel quickly sputters out, "It's just that….after all this time, you never really mentioned me in your talks with your mom….like anything about me…." She dips her head to regain speech while you try to remember every one-sided talk you had with your mother.

"I'm so sorry Rach," you pick up her hand and lace your fingers together. "I didn't…I don't know why I never said anything. I guess…you were just always there. But I told her and she seemed okay with it. I mean she told me she loved me before I left."

A smile reappears on her face. "I shouldn't be so concerned with how many mentions I get…I was just a little curious." You give her a get serious look and she giggles, "Okay I was a little put off that you hadn't said anything about me."

"I'm sorry," you bring her hand to your lips and kiss the back of her hand.

She seems to whole-heartedly accept your apology and kisses your cheek in return.

"So what about you?" you sip your drink and looks her over, "What did you need to tell me?"

Rachel pushes her hair away from her face and takes a deep breath. "My news, though not as immediately nice, can be so once you get past the initial shock."

"What is it?" you tilt your head to the side, not having the foggiest idea of what she's talking about.

"My dads…" she starts, but pauses to clear her throat, "Saw us kissing on the ski lift."

It's your turn to be shocked. But you're not only shocked, you're terrified. What if they kick you out? What if they are disappointed in you? What if they disapprove of you dating Rachel? You did reenter their lift\e as a broken girl, a drinking, fighting truant who for half of a semester copied every assignment you had and cheated on all the tests you took.

"Quinn," she pulls you out of your thoughts and offers you a hopeful, yet a 'there's more' smile. "It's okay. They still love me and they still love you. We had a momentary argument when they wanted you to sleep in the guest room when we get home, but I explained to them that neither of us are ready to take that giant step _that_ direction and promised to keep the door open." She watches your face, waiting for some kind of reaction. "I just wanted you to know."

"I…" you don't really have words. You just don't know how to react. And now you don't know how to act around them. You feel like they're be scrutinizing everything you do and everything you say.

"I'm also grounded for two weeks when we get home because I didn't tell them and we could have been doing the nasty under their roof for weeks," she quickly adds, "But other than that, everything is the same." When your face starts to fall, she adds, "But this way, I can take you out on dates. Real ones. And we can call them dates. I can stand on the front porch and ring the doorbell to pick you up with flowers and everything."

Her sweet ramblings put you at ease. That does seem nice, going on actual dates. You probably won't touch her in front of her dads for a while, but after that you can cuddle on the couch and make romantic dinners for two. You let out a smile and kiss her. "Sounds great."

"So," Rachel rests her head on your shoulder. "What do you want to do now? We can go shopping or sledding…"

"There's where you two ran off to," Rachel's dad smiles at both of you from the side of the couch, "We're about to go get a late lunch. Do you girls want to come?"

You jump and avert your eyes from both Rachel and her dad. You look at the ground, your eyes staring at the thick rug under the coffee table in front of you. Rachel takes your hand, threading your fingers together. Your first reaction is to jerk you hand away, but Rachel holds your hand firm like she knew what you were going to do before you did it.

"I think we'll just hang out here for a little bit," Rachel replies in a tone telling her dad to leave it alone.

"Alright," he chuckles and you can't help, but feel that he's laughing at you. "We'll catch up with you two later. Don't forget to eat though."

"We won't," Rachel adds.

There's no more speaking so you're going to assume that he's gone because you're sure as hell not going to look. You might accidentally make eye contact.

You can hear Rachel giggling and she rests her forehead on the side of your head. "He's not going to eat you."

You shake your head and keep staring at your knees. "I won't be able to look at them, either of them, ever again."

Rachel full on belly laughs and falls back on her end of the couch. You finally turn to look at her as she's doubled over and gasping for breath, while people walking by look at her like she's nuts. You wish you could be mad at her for finding it so damn funny, but you can't. Not when she's laughing like that.

You slap her thigh and roll your eyes. She just sits up and envelops you in her arms, showering your face with kisses. And now you really can't be mad at her. She runs her fingers through your hair and then ruffles it up.

You shake your head, trying to get her to stop while making your hair fall back into place. "Rachel," you huff, but again you're not really mad because she could get away with anything with you.

"So, I was thinking," she adds taking a sip of her coffee. "We haven't gotten to use the hot tub yet."

Oh man. Rachel in a swimsuit, in a hot tub… You grab your coffee and stand up, "Race you to the room." Then you take off running.

Rachel calls, "No fair!" after you as she tries to chase you down.


	20. My Car Is Haunted by Royal Bangs

It's your third and last night in Vermont, Rachel's dad took her daddy to a romantic dinner up the mountain so you and Rachel are left with a hot tub, a roaring fireplace and strict 'no funny business' instructions. You're terrified of them enough to respect their rules so you're watching a movie while Rachel is off doing something. At first you thought that she was going to change, but she's been gone a really long time.

Finally you decide to get up and see where she went. Then you spot something flickering out on the balcony as you walk to the bedroom. You walk to the door to get a better look and see her standing on the balcony in a bikini, lighting candles around the bubbling hot tub.

You smile and slide open the door. "What are you doing?"

She looked up for a second at you like you just caught her with her hand in the cookie jar. Then she smiles, "Why don't you go change and I'll finish setting this up?"

You quirk your eyebrow at her and let out a small smile. She smiles back and you can't help, but do what she says.

When you return there are strawberries and sparkling cider that you're sure came by room service. She's standing in the waist deep water. She smiles up at you offering you a flute of sparkling cider. You smile and accept it. She offers you her hand as you step down into the water.

"What's all this for?" you ask her, as you both sink down into the water.

"Well," she takes a sip of her cider and offers you a chocolate covered strawberry, which you take. "Since this is our last night in the mountains and my grounding officially starts tomorrow, I wanted to get at least one date in."

You smile widely at her, "This is very sweet." You look at all the candles that are lit around you and the view of the moonlit mountain. You kiss her cheek before taking a bite of your strawberry.

She smiles sweetly at you. Then, like she's completely unsure of it, she leans toward your, her lips tentatively seeking out yours. You meet her halfway and your lips mesh together like they were never meant for anyone else.

You never thought that kissing what a particularly erotic until Rachel's lips touched yours for the first time. Every stupid, overdone cliché now makes sense. The fireworks, the sparks, the breathlessness, the racing heart. Everything phrase that has been passed down through a thousands of years of literature, hits you at once.

A tiny whimper brings you out of your thoughts. You realize that your right hand is tangled in Rachel's hair. Your left hand is under the water, stroking her thigh. You pull away, scared that you pulled her hair or something.

Her eyes are still closed when you look her over. Her chest rises and falls with deep breaths. Then she licks her lips.

"Are you okay?" you ask her. You're scared at you hurt her.

Her eyes slowly open and she audibly exhales. "I'm fine. Just a little…" She gestures vaguely with her hand.

You don't know what she's saying so you smooth out her hair. "Did I hurt you?"

"Of course not," Rachel shook her head. "I just…your hand was really…close to my…" She bit her bottom lip.

"Oh!" your eyes grow wide, "I'm so sorry. I don't know what-" She cuts you off with a dismissive wave.

"It's fine," she shakes her head. "It's just that…I'm just really…"

"Oooh," escapes your mouth. You figured it out. Your touch…turned her on. A slow smile creeps onto your face because even though you said you weren't ready and she isn't either, having that kind of power is delightful.

She blushes and dips her head. You think she's so adorable so you wrap her in your arms and pull her to you. In the water, you over estimate what you need to get her close to you and pull her into your lap. She seems tense at first but relaxes so you don't stop yourself from dropping a kiss on your shoulder.

A moan erupting from her throat sends shivers through your body, even though it's in hot water. You wrap your arms around her waist and rest your chin on her shoulder. You're both facing the mountains that are framed in the lit candles.

"It may be best if we kept the kisses on the lips," Rachel lets out breathlessly. "You're not ready and I'm…"

"Not twenty-five?" you ask with a smile. You love that she's respecting you and not pawing at you even though she's really turned on. It's a first for you.

She chuckles, "I'm not twenty-five, but…" she trails off. "Twenty-five is a long way away. I mean, we're going to be living together…"

"Just because we live together doesn't mean we have to do anything. We live together now and we haven't," you tell her, trying to make her feel comfortable. You don't want her to feel bad for not putting out, just like she's doing for you.

Rachel opens her mouth to speak, but a rather manly voice is heard, "That's good to know."

You nearly jump out of your skin. You stop yourself from shoving Rachel off of your lap, but you drop your arms.

"Dad!" Rachel squeals and turns around.

You turn just in time to see him try not to laugh. "I just came back to tell you that we're going dancing and will be out later." He winks at you, "Thanks for making me feel better about leaving you two alone."

You blush harder than you ever have and hold your breath until he leaves.

"Dad!" Rachel stands in the middle of the hot tub, her hands on her hips (you think that you even see her stomp under the water too). "You're ruining our first official date. Not to mention the only date we're going to have for two weeks!"

He finally bursts out laughing and you try really hard not to laugh as well. "You two have fun. Feel free to charge your dinner to the room if you go out or order up. Have fun." He steps back inside and closes the sliding door to the cabin.

You let your head lull back and rest it on the edge of the hot tub. Rachel chuckles and kisses your neck. You fend off a moan. You open one eye and peer at her, "You were right about probably keeping the kisses on the lips."

She giggles bashfully and hugs your neck. "Okay," she smiles.

You spend a while in the hot tub before going inside to change into some warm pajamas. You order room service and curl up on the couch in front of the fire. It's the best first date you can imagine.

You're sad to leave, but happy to be going home. Especially because your mom is coming home in two days, which you're both anxious and excited about.

You get home in the early afternoon to find Santana asleep on the couch with the TV droning away. You make her up, but no one asks her why she's there because there are left over enchiladas that she made when she was bored and they're surprisingly vegan and delicious. Plus none of you have eaten since you left Vermont.

After you eat and throw all of your clothes into the washing machine, you get some time to relax. Rachel's phone is confiscated and she can only take it with her to school. She's officially grounded and is not allowed to leave the house except for school and glee.

When Santana asks why, you quietly explain it to her while Rachel's dads tell her what she can and can't do. It's hard to hide what you're talking about when Santana laughs loudly. "That is both depressing and hilarious."

Since she's not allowed to leave, you put on a movie and settle into the couch, waiting for her dads to finish.

"You girls shouldn't have to sit around the house because Rachel is grounded," Daddy tells you as you're laying on the couch, watching a second movie with Rachel and Santana. "In fact, this doesn't even seem like she's grounded at all."

"You have my phone _and_ I'm not allowed to leave," Rachel whines, her arms intertwining around you. "You're not taking Quinn too." She hides her face in your shoulder and latches onto you.

"I do believe that you have an Oscar room to clean," he chuckles. Then he looks to you and Santana, "She's not allowed to have help."

"Not a problem," Santana states, her eyes never leaving the TV. Then she cranes her neck to look at you, "Mall Q?"

You look down at Rachel who looks dejected, but shrugs, "Fine go without me."

"I'll bring you back something pretty," you promise her with a smile.

"That she won't get to have until after she's out of her grounding," Daddy states.

Rachel looks up at him, "Out of my grounding? It sounds like you're putting me in a windowless box that I can't get out of for two weeks."

He smiles at her, "I'm new to this grounding thing. I do know that the stage is not going to sweep itself."

Rachel groans and storms out. Santana cracks up laughing and you try not to.

You hand Santana the keys to your car and she doesn't have to ask why anymore. She just slides into the driver's seat.

"Where's Brittany?" you ask.

Santana takes a shaky breath, "No idea."

"Are you two…okay?" you ask her, watching as she adjusts the mirror to see herself before pressing her lips together, ensuring even lip gloss coverage.

"Again, no idea," Santana says forcefully, "And if I wanted to think about it, I would be sitting alone at my house."

"Sorry," you mumble and look out the window. After a few blocks you think of something you wanted to do. "Can we go by my house?" you ask. "I want to make sure it's clean before my mom gets back."

"Sure," Santana nods, pulling your car to a stop as a red light.

Well it's your mom's car. It's becoming all too real to you that she's coming home. Things are starting to fall into your mom's ownership again. Her car, her house, her bedroom.

"Where are you gonna live?" Santana asks gently while she turns onto your street.

"I don't-" you start, but stop yourself, "I think my mom's gonna need me. Especially since Rachel and I are moving to New York in a few months. She'll be alone again."

Guilt comes crashing on top of you when you realize that you've been living your life and making plans without your mom. While she was in a comatose state, you planned out your life without her.

"Hey," Santana says softly in a tone she really only ever takes with Brittany. "I'll help you okay? I'll help you with your mom and whatever you need."

You are genuinely touched by her words. She usually isn't this emotional or straightforward with her offers to help. "Thanks S."

She nods and focuses on driving until she pulls to a stop in front of your house. You both get out and walk together. She pauses at the foot of the porch like something is stopping her from going inside. You keep walking up to the door. You realize that she has your keys and turn around to say something when you see that she finally followed you.

She soundlessly hands you, your keys and crosses her arms, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and back. You single out a key and get it halfway to the lock before remembering that that's the key to the Berry house. You grab the key to this house and unlock the door.

It smells musty inside. You suppose that that makes sense because no one has been living here for a while. You try the lights and find that they've been turned back on since the last time you were there. You go through your mental checklist and remember that you're current on all the bills.

"So like…" Santana looks around like she's never been here before. "What do you want me to do?"

"Um," you pause to think. You should probably wash the sheets in your mom's room and do the same for the empty bed in what was once your room. "Can you check the kitchen and makes sure that there aren't any really weird smells or moldy things?"

You know that normally she would protest something so potentially disgusting, but she just nods and walks toward the kitchen. You part ways with her and walk toward your mom's room. You haven't even been down the hallway to her room in weeks.

It takes a little mental coaxing to get yourself into her room, but before you know it, you're pulling the dirty sheets off of her bed. Once yours and your mom's sheets are in the washer, you check all the bathrooms for standard toiletries and don't even pause as you pass your sister's room. If you stop, you may remember that catalyst for everything that has happened to you over the past few months.

Santana is walking back in the front door. She brushes her hands against each other and making a disgusted face. When she looks up, she sees you, "I just took the trash out. It smelled funky, but I found the Lysol wipes and wiped it down. I'm pretty sure it's so clean Pillsbury would lick it."

You smile at your friend. "Thanks S."

"Other than that, the kitchen is done," Santana shrugs, "I had to throw away everything in the refrigerator, it was growing all kinds of rainbow shit on it."

"I think that's it," you look around. You stop and stare at both of your reflections in the TV. "It'll be okay right? My mom will be okay and I'll get to go with Rachel?"

She wraps her arms around your shoulders, "Of course. Everything will work out."

You rest your head against hers and close your eyes. You really want to believe her, but it seems like your whole life was waiting for the other shoe to drop and now is not any different.

"Listen," Santana takes a deep breath. "If graduation comes and your mom still needs someone to stay with her, I'll do it."

You frown and turn toward her. "What do you mean?"

Santana shrugs, "I'll stay here. You and Rachel are going to New York even if I have to pack you in pet carriers and ship you there as my blonde Labrador and yappy Chihuahua."

You smile at her and turn so that you're facing her. You hug her properly and hold onto her. "I couldn't let you stay."

"Q, let's face it," Santana pulls away to look at you. "You're going to do amazing things. I'm going to get some crappy liberal arts degree and get a boring, dead-end job at in the sales department of some lame ass company. I can put that off for a year. You need to get the hell out of this town."

"What about Brittany?" you ask, searching her eyes. You can see the uncertainty she has when you bring Brittany up.

"Brittany doesn't know what she wants to do," Santana sighs. "No one told her that she needed to get her college applications in at a certain time so I stayed up all night to do them for her a few days ago, when she was doing family things. I don't think she's heard back yet. I think she would have told me."

"You'll be the first to know," you place your hand on Santana's shoulder.

Santana leans back on the back of the couch, "Do you wanna go to the mall or something? I feel the need to unload a few hundred dollars."

"One condition," you tell her and open the front door to make your exit.

She pulls to a stop outside of Brittany's house. You can see Santana biting the inside of her cheek as her eyes scan the Pierce house.

You don't hesitate to get out and walk up to the front door while Santana sits in the car. You swiftly knock on the door. As you're waiting you check your phone. You know that Rachel isn't allowed to have her phone, but you really want to text her or something.

The front door opens and Brittany is standing there in sweatpants and a t-shirt that's hanging off of one of her shoulders. You smile at her, "Hey, Santana and I are going to the mall. Do you wanna go?"

"She's not mad at me?" Brittany's eyes flicker back to your car.

You shake your head, "Why would she be?"

Brittany pulls her phone out of her pocket, "She hasn't texted me back all weekend. I even made a really romantic picnic for us in my backyard last night."

You look at her phone and see that the screen on her phone is broken. It's shattered beyond recognition across the top of the screen. "Um, Britt, what happened to your phone?"

"Lord Tubbington sat on it," she looks down at it, running her fingers over the spider web like cracks.

"Are you sure you were texting Santana?" you ask, realizing that it completely makes sense that Brittany was texting a payphone, not realizing that it's not Santana.

Brittany frowns. I think so. I mean…I dunno. I guess I should have made sure."

"C'mon," you tell her. "Let's go to the mall and get you a new phone and see who you've been texting."

She runs off to get dressed and you call after her that you'll be in the car. You laugh as you near the car and get into the backseat, "Her phone broke. She made you a romantic picnic last night and thought that you were mad at her. We have to get her a new phone though and make sure she wasn't texting Puck, thinking it was you."

Brittany runs back out to your car and sits in the passenger's seat. She smiles bashfully at Santana who smiles back. "You're not mad at me for not texting you, are you?"

Santana shakes her head. "I should have texted you."

You smile at the way they look at each other. It makes you miss Rachel. You have a feeling that you'll be spending most of her grounding with her at the house.

When you do get to the mall and get Brittany a new phone, you find that she was actually texting Mr. Schue. "It's going to be really weird in glee tomorrow," she frowns.

Hanging out with Brittany and Santana at the mall brings back a sense of nostalgia. Like when all you had to worry about was making the Cheerios squad. Then you needed to be the on top and your friends entered into a relationship that you weren't a part of.

You smile though. You're happy now.

You pick up a little something for Rachel that you know she can't have for two weeks, but you're happy about it. You plan on placing it on the night stand in it's long, thin velvet case until she can have it. It'll drive her crazy and she's so cute when she's trying to pump you for information. She may just be able to bribe you with kisses to let her at least see what's in it.

While you're walking around the mall you see Brittany eyeing Santana who is obliviously looking over a wall of spiked heel boots. And it's not just regular 'my girlfriend is so hot' eyeing. It's 'rip her clothes off and take her against the hair straightener kiosk'. So you suggest a quick exit and drop them both off at Santana's most-likely empty house.

You make your way back to the Berry house, but stop Breadstix. You call Rachel's dads and ask if it's okay that you bring home dinner for everyone. They call you on your attempt to bring Rachel her favorite spinach pasta, but tell you that they'll call it in and pay with their credit card because if you pay for it, it's like bringing Rachel dinner which is apparently against their grounding rules.

They call it in and you play on your phone until it's ready. You take it back to the house. Dad sends you upstairs to get Rachel for dinner while they plate the food.

The door is closed so you open it without hesitation. You see Rachel laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. She turns to look at you as you enter. When she sees you, her smile gets wide and she hops off of the bed. She throws her arms around you in a hug.

"I can't stand this," she huffs and lets go of you. "I've been in here for three hours by myself and I'm going crazy. How am I going to do this for another thirteen days?"

"You're going to watch a lot of movies," you smile and kiss her. You gently take her hand and lace your fingers together. She tilts her head up and kisses you again. When she pulls away, she's breathless and you smile at how beautiful she is. "C'mon, it's time for dinner." You toss the bag with her present in it on the bed.

"What's in the bag?" she asks, looking between it and you.

"It's a surprise for you," you grin at her. She smiles back and takes your other hands, bringing both of your hands up between your chests.

She kisses you, nipping at your bottom lip. "What is it?"

"I'll tell you in thirteen days," you let out a Cheshire grin.

The smile drops from her face and she full on pouts. "Quinn."

"Dinner time," you kiss her forehead and let go of one of her hands. You pull her out of the room, laughing as she drags her feet all the way to the dinner table.


	21. Rocketship by Shiny Toy Guns

Your alarm goes off way before you are ready for it. It rings a few times as you rise into the conscious world. You stretch and push your hair out of your face. You slam your hand down on the alarm and stop it from wailing at you.

You run through the shower, straighten your hair and pull on one of your signature skin tight dresses and a short jacket. It seems like it's going to rain today from what you saw out your bathroom window so you go with a short tailored leather jacket.

As you walk down the stairs you smell coffee so at least one of your parent's must be home. That surprises you. You decide to avoid them altogether and just grab your purse on the way out the door. You can get coffee on the way to school.

But halfway out the door, you get stopped. "Santana. _Ven aqui_."

You sigh and close the door. Your ankle boots click on the tile when you enter the kitchen. Your mom is sitting at the table, a stack of envelopes on the table in front of her.

You don't say anything. You make your way to the coffee maker and pull out a travel mug.

"What are these?" your mom asks.

You glance up at her and see her holding up some envelopes. You abandon your coffee and walk over to her. You take the envelopes from her. When you see the seals on the letters the wind is knocked out of you.

Your mom sips her coffee, "Those are some great schools mija."

You numbly nod staring at them. You start sorting. You figure that you should probably start checking the mail more often. You make your way through them and are surprised when you see one with Brittany's name on it. You only applied for her a few weeks ago. You shouldn't be getting a response this soon. Then you see the name on the top corner. You know what this is for.

You throw your arms around your mom. "Oh my god!"

Your mom laughs. "What is it?"

"Brittany got an audition," you grin. You take a deep breath. "To NYU." You look around and grab your purse off of the counter. "I have to tell her."

"Santana!" You mom calls.

You wheel around and look at her. She's holding your letters from the universities. "Aren't you going to open these?"

"I will when I get home," you start to walk out the door and then stop. "Shit, um, Quinn's mom is coming back this afternoon." You just walk over and take the letters, shoving them into your purse. "I'll text you what they say."

"Hey," your mom calls. "Why don't you just wait to tell me until you get home?"

You nod to her, "Alright. I may be a little late. Quinn's mom and all." You've been telling your mom about Quinn and her mom on the rare occasion that she calls you because it was better than talking about your relationship problems.

"I'll make something to take over there later tonight," your mom says, turning back to her coffee. "Have a good day."

"Yeah, you too," you add and walk out the door.

As you sit in your car, your ipod immediately goes into the dock for your car. You throw on some Nicki Minaj and head to Brittany's house.

Last night, things got a little heated, but you both cooled off before the clothes started to come off. You're starting to think that you're never going to have sex again. At least last night you finally started to actually make out. You almost forgot how breathless Brittany could actually make you.

As you drive, you remember something that you need to do. You grab your phone and tap as few buttons as you're stopped at a stop sign. You put the phone to your ear and actually take in the weather outside. The sky is overcast and it's chilly, but the sun is stuck between the horizon and the clouds, spraying everything with an early morning orange glow.

"Puckerman Electric Company. We'll remove your shorts."

"Does that ever work?" you ask back through the phone.

Puck chuckles, "Half the time. What's up?"

"How would you like to make fifty bucks at lunch?" you ask him.

"Does it have anything do with a south of your border?"

You roll your eyes, "No assface."

"Threesome?"

"I will give you twenty-five dollars to stop you right there," you pull onto Brittany's street. "Quinn's mom is coming back today. I need you to go mow the front and back yard at her house at lunch."

"Shit, you should have just said so," Puck sounds more serious that you've heard him in a while. "I'll do it for free."

"Really?" somehow you think there's a catch.

"Yeah. I know that Quinn has been having a hard time," he adds, "I'll get Finn, Sam, and Mike out there too. I know you and Rachel have been taking care of her, but let me know if there's something I can do."

"Yeah, definitely," you shouldn't really be surprised though. You know that Puck always has and will always have a soft spot for Quinn.

You pull to a stop outside of Brittany's house and she's already waiting for you on her front porch. She lets out her bright smile and you turn the music down a little bit as she gets into the car. She leans over and kisses your cheek. "Good morning."

"Good morning," you let out a ridiculous grin that only one person in the entire world can get out of you. You move your attention back to Puck, "I'll see you at school."

"Later," Puck says and hangs up.

Brittany turns the music up a little as you take off and drop your phone in your lap. "Can I borrow your lip-gloss? I lost mine again."

"Of course," you tell her, "It's in my purse."

She reaches behind the seat and grabs your purse, placing it in her lap. Before she can get to your lip gloss, you see her find the letters. She takes them out, looking them over, turning them over in her hands.

"You already applied all these places?" she asks carefully.

You nod as you make the last turn on the way to school. "Yeah. Keep looking."

She keeps looking through the letters. She finally comes across the one with her name on it. She blinks and looks it over. "New York University? I didn't-I didn't apply. At all."

"I know," you nod and pull into a your understood place in the student parking lot. "I did it for you…" Suddenly you're not so sure it was a good idea. Her blank stare isn't the look you were expecting. So you keep talking. "It's probably a letter to tell you when your audition is. You don't have to commit at all. I applied a bunch of other places for you too. Not just New York. You weren't really talking to me when I applied for you so I applied everywhere. There's Seattle and Chicago and LA-" You stop talking because you can see her eyes soften at you.

She picks up yours, "What about these?"

"I applied a long time ago," you shrug. You actually got all of your stuff in the first day you could apply because it's not like you had anything better to do than get drunk and feel sorry for yourself.

She thumbs through your letters and pulls three of them out. Then she puts the other ones back and hands you the three. You look at them and see that they're all schools in New York City. You look up at her questioningly.

"I want to open them together," she tells you. With a small smile she leans over and gives you a quick peck on the lips. "Because we've always talked about New York and at Nationals last year, we had so much fun."

You nod and look at the letters in your hand. The reason you're reluctant to open them is because you're scared you didn't get into anywhere, but Ohio State. You desperately want to get out of this state. You take a deep breath and nod to her.

She slips a finger under the flap of the envelope and paused to wait for you to start opening yours. You start with NYU because you secretly hope that you'll go to the same school. Sharing a dorm the first year, walking her to class, going to her recitals. You've missed her so much these last few months that you weren't together and you can't imagine your future without her.

You pull open the envelope and see the letter baiting you. Brittany extracts her letter and unfolds it, not even looking at you. So you watch her, your own letter dropping into you lap. As her eyes scan the letter you pray that she got an audition because if they could see her in person they'd know that she belongs with the best of the best.

She looks at you and yet again you can't read her. Tears well in her eyes and you panic. You take the letter from her and look it over, trying to find where they rejected her and a phone number you can call to bitch someone out. But as your eyes scan the page you see quite the opposite.

"Oh my god," you breath and look up at her. There are tears in her eyes, but a smile on her face. She throws her arms around you. As she holds you, you read the letter again. You read online for a long time, seeing how long the admission process takes, now much heartbreak aspiring dancers go through. The slim chance that anyone gets a real-life audition much less a straight forward acceptance. But you read the first line again:

_Brittany Susan Pierce,_

_It is our pleasure to welcome you to the Tisch School of the Arts and extend you an invitation to our special summer program…_

"You did it," you tell her and run your fingers through her hair. "You did it."

"How did you…" she starts. She takes the letter from your hand. "It's so early…what did you send them?"

"Well you know how I record all of your recitals like a creep?" you ask with a smile. She nods and you continue. "I made a video of everything they needed and got Coach Sue and Mr. Schue to write you a letter of recommendation and filled out everything for you. But you did it Britt. You worked so hard and you did it."

She pulls you into a deep kiss, her tongue dancing around yours. When she pulls away, she takes your hand, "Thank you so much."

"It was all you," you stroke her fingers.

"You didn't open yours," she tells you and picks yours up. You both tear into your admission letters. You get into two of the three schools, but it doesn't matter because Brittany is going to New York and you're going with her. T's just icing no the cake that you both go into NYU.

You don't forget your promise to Quinn that you'll stay with her mom if she needs you to. And you will if you need to. You just hope that it doesn't come to that.

Finally, you and Brittany realize that you're late to your first class. You and Brittany smile all the way to your first class where you part ways. You tell her that you want to borrow her admission letter to show Quinn. She tells you that you can have hers if you give her yours.

As you slide into your desk next to Quinn, the teacher notices you come in. "Ah, Ms. Lopez, so kind of you to join us."

"Sorry, college stuff," you smile at her, too happy to even reply.

The teacher rolls her eyes at you and turns around. _That_ pisses you off.

"Excuse me," you raise your hand.

She turns back around and barely acknowledges you. "Yes?"

"Where did you go to college?" you ask her. You can feel Quinn's hand on your arm, trying to stop you.

"Ohio Christian," she tells you.

"Cute," you smile condescendingly at her. "So before you want to write me off as a Lima loser, ask me where I just got into school."

She does look intimidated now. You have a cocky smirk on your face and when she asks you, you tell her the two schools you got into. The quietly apologizes, giving you some half-assed excuse about a lack of sleep. You didn't listen and when she starts the lesson you hand Quinn Brittany's letter.

She looks it over her and her mouth drops open. She smiles at you, "Congratulations. Both of you. That's amazing."

"We bad," you smirk. "What about Rachel? Anything from Julliard yet?"

"Not yet," Quinn takes a deep breath, "And I applied way late so, I probably won't know for a few more weeks."

"Well," you smile at her, "When we all get in and move to New York City, it's going to be epic."

She smiles at you fully and looks at the board. But you're a little worried about her. You're worried about her and her mom, so you decide that you need to tell Brittany about your promise to Quinn, just in case. Because you stand by your word and you'll wait a year if you need to. You just hope it doesn't come down to that.

When you tell Brittany it takes her a minute but she smiles at you and pulls you into her arms. You should have expected her to be understanding. However, when she offers to stay with you, you shake your head and explain to her how dance it's a dream that can't be put off and how she has the opportunity of the lifetime.

She seems to agree with you for the moment and takes your hand to go to your next class together.

Words can't really describe what it feels like to hold her hand as you walk down the hall and not give a shit who is looking. And this may be the first time where you didn't care even the smallest bit. Because you know that you and Brittany are getting out of this town (at some point) and most of these people don't have the ambition or the brains or the will power to get out. Sure you had a little help with your grades because of Cheerios, but you worked your ass off for the Cheerios.

At lunch, you and Brittany go meet the guys at Quinn's house. You told Rachel what was going on because Quinn is starting to get antsy and you're contemplating taking her to the only spa in town to get a massage or something before her mom gets here.

You use the extra key Quinn gave you and unlock the door. It still smells like a retirement home inside so you go back to your car to get the air freshener and the candles you bought on the way. You and Brittany spray air freshener and light candles until the house doesn't smell like mothballs.

By the time you're done, the boys are putting everything back into the bed of Puck's truck. You lock the door and walk over to them. "How much do I owe you?"

Mike shakes his head, "Nothing. It's for Quinn."

Puck looks at his phone. "Well, we have forty-five minutes left of lunch. What do you guys say to lunch at Hooters? On me."

The guys smile and high five each other in the most predictable fashion. "You girls wanna come?" Sam asks.

You shrug and look to Brittany. She shakes her head. "No thanks. There's not much to look at." She smiles at you and gives you a wink.

"And your girlfriend has the best rack in town," Puck adds.

You go to hit him in the chest, but Brittany beats you to it. He places his hand over where she hit him and smirks. "Sorry B. It was a compliment to your girl though."

Brittany slips her arm around your waist, in a blatant show of possession. "Did she tell you what we got this morning?" When they all shake their heads, Puck's head with a pervy smile. She replies, "We got acceptance letters to NYU."

"You got into Tisch?" Mike asks her.

She nods.

You have to add, "This summer program too."

Mike walks over to her and hugs Brittany. "That's amazing. Congratulations."

Finn bumps shoulders with Sam. "What about your news?"

Sam blushes and looks down, "I um…I got a scholarship to Arizona State for swimming."

"Good job Trouty Mouth," you grin and hug him because Brittany and Mike are both busy talking about Tisch.

You and Brittany make your way back to school with some Thai food for both of you as well as Rachel and Quinn. They're both sitting next to each other, their chairs close together. Quinn is holding a book in their hands and her head is on Rachel's shoulder. It looks like they're reading together.

"So, I got lettuce wraps," you announce as you and Brittany walk in. "I hope that's cool."

They both look up at you and smile. You hand them their bag and sit in the chair next to Quinn. Brittany sits a row down from all of you and turns around in her seat.

"I heard you got into Tisch," Rachel smiles brightly at Brittany. You can see the jealousy in her eyes, but you can also see a sincere happiness. "Congratulations."

Quinn leans over next to you and whispers, "If you need Rachel and I for the next few weeks, we'll be in the tent next to her mailbox."

You chuckle and look past her to Rachel, "Don't worry Lil Streisand. Your letter is probably already in the mail."

Rachel nods dismissively. "What about you Santana? Are you excited about NYU?"

You nod, hesitantly. Your eyes flicker to Quinn.

Quinn takes your hand. "Hey. Rachel and I talked about it. I can take care of my mom and go to school at the same time. She'll move up to New York with Rachel and me. With the alimony and what's left of the settlement, my mom and I can live in an apartment and Rachel will have to stay in the dorm. It'll be great." She flexes her smile, "Especially if you and Brittany will be there."

"Well, if you change your mind," you offer feeling a little relieved. You promised her without thinking about you and Brittany going to New York together.

Quinn takes a deep breath and looks to Rachel, "Should I go to the house? See if anything needs to be done?"

"We were just there," Brittany cuts in. "The guys did the lawn and it smells good in your house now."

Quinn just looks at her for a moment before turning to you. She asks the silent question and you nod.

She silently and solemnly wraps her arms around your shoulders. You rub her back and close your eyes trying to gauge the hug. You feel it out and find that she's so grateful and scared out of her mind. "It'll be okay, Q. We'll all be there."

"Thanks Santana," Quinn whispers. When she lets go of you, she folds herself back into Rachel.

Rachel gives you a tense smile over Quinn's head before resting her cheek on top of Quinn's head.

Rachel talks Quinn into staying for glee because her mom isn't going to be back until half an hour after glee is over. She told her that the music would be good for her. You're not really looking forward to it though. You can tell Brittany isn't either. Especially not after all the texts that Brittany accidentally sent Mr. Schue.

So you take Brittany's hand, as a sign of support but also a sign of possession. You don't want Mr. Schue getting any ideas. You've always been weary of him.

You can see Mr. Schue glancing at Brittany from out of the corner of his eyes as he speaks with Puck. Puck has a guitar hanging off of his shoulder, so you figure he's going to sing something. You just pull her up the risers to sit behind Quinn and Rachel.

Finally, because Mr. Schue can never leave anything alone, he walks over toward you. She looks at Brittany who looks away. You don't know the exact content of the texts, but you know they were romantic and suggestive.

"Look," you say before he can open his mouth. "First off, don't flatter yourself. All those texts were for me. Brittany's phone broke and she thought she was texting me. There's no need for you to tell her it was inappropriate because we all know that not only would it be inappropriate, but completely nauseating."

Mr. Schue shifts his weight and scratched his chin. "Um… okay."

He tries to avoid looking directly at Brittany for the rest of the practice. You're completely fine with that. You really don't want him to ever look at her again.

Puck sings a soft song with the guys to Quinn. It gets Quinn all watery and sniffling. When the song is over, Quinn gets up and hugs all of the guys.

When glee is over, the four of your head to Quinn's house. Rachel's dads are already there waiting to be let in the house. Once inside everyone takes a position where they plan to wait.

Quinn is a hot mess next to you. She keeps straightening the pillows on the couch while Rachel helplessly watches from her perch on the arm of the loveseat and you stand by the window, your arms crossed. Finally one of Rachel's dads helps her with the cushions and Quinn joins you at the window.

Brittany stands from her seat in the armchair and walks over to you. She looks so unsure of what's going on. You keep forgetting that she has missed most of this mess. She stands close and leans on you. You put your arm around her waist and stroke the sliver of skin from the small of her back that's explodes and let the soft, warm skin calm you.

Brittany looks at you and finds your eyes. She bites her bottom lip as her eyes drop. Her voice is so low that you're the only one that can hear it. "I don't…I think I should go get some food. There's nothing in the kitchen and everyone has to eat. Plus, I don't want to like, scare her mom. There's a lot of people here."

You nod. You know that she's uncomfortable. This is a really tense environment. Quinn is practically vibrating the whole room by herself. You kiss her temple and rub her back. "Take my purse. My keys and my wallet are in there."

Brittany lets go of you and picks up your purse off of the coffee table. She tentatively walks up to Quinn. You can hear her tell Quinn that she's going to go get food and ask her what she wants. Quinn gives her a shaky smile. She hugs Brittany before answering. You can see Quinn shake her head and tell her that she doesn't know.

Rachel walks over to Brittany and gives her a short list of essentials. One of Rachel's dads hand her a fifty and tells her to use that money. Brittany glances back at you. A hopeful smile turns up one side of her lips. You return the hopeful smile before Brittany takes your car to the store.

It's not ten minutes after Brittany leaves that a black town car pulls to a stop at the curb. You're the sole person manning the window so you turn to everyone sitting around the living room. "She's here."

Quinn shoots to her feet and Rachel follows her. They both walk to the front door while you stay at the window watching a man in a suit get out and open the backseat door. You see Mrs. Fabray slowly rise out of the car. She stands there looking at the house like she's not sure it's hers. Then the man gets two suitcases out of the trunk and stand next to her, waiting for her to lead the way up.

She finally starts walking toward the house with the man behind her. Judy stops at the front door, feeling her pockets. You're pretty sure she doesn't have any keys on her.

You look to your right where Rachel and Quinn are having some intense eye contact. You clear your throat and Quinn's eyes shoot to you. You give a small nod. She nods back and inhales. She holds it in as she flips back the locks on the door.

She doesn't pull it open until Rachel places a supportive hand on her back. Only then does Quinn exhale and open the door.

You push off the windowsill and walk toward them, stopping next to the couch. You don't want to crowd Judy. You just want to be close enough to be supportive for Quinn.

You can already see the tears in Quinn's eyes. Then you take a few steps to the side to see her mom. She has the same watery eyes. Judy is the one that closes the gap between them. She wraps her arms around her daughter. It gets you a little misty, but you're sure as hell not going to cry.

"I'm so, so sorry Quinn," Judy says holding her.

One of Rachel's dads steps past them and gets her bags from the driver. Once back inside he closes the door.

Rachel takes a step back, away from them and takes your hand. A few months ago you would have jerked your hand away from her and yelled at her for even touching you, but this girl saved you from yourself. You let go of her hand and she immediately looks up at you, hurt. You just give her a small smile and envelope her shoulders in your arms. She rests her head on your shoulder and holds you around your waist.

Quinn and her mom hug for a good five minutes before they break away. Judy keeps her arm around Quinn and looks around. "Thank you all for coming."

She seems just like the Judy Fabray you used to know. She's polite and poised. She looks affectionately at her daughter who is clinging to her side. She looks back up at the group. "If you don't mind, I would like to talk to my daughter. We'll just step into the backyard. It's gorgeous outside."

Quinn hasn't looked away from her mom. She's awestruck and you have to say, you are too. She was a zombie from what how Quinn and Rachel described her and now she…normal.

As the backdoor closes, the front door opens. You turn to find Brittany lugging paper grocery bags in each arm. She rush to her and take one. Rachel and her dads follow you to the kitchen.

"I wish I knew what they were saying," Rachel sighs from next to the kitchen window that overlooks the backyard. She's being discreet and standing to the side so that they can't see her.

"Rachel," her daddy says, adjusting his glasses.

You smirk as she huffs, shuffling away from the window. You pick up some milk and walk over to the refrigerator with it. You don't think you've ever seen a refrigerator this empty that wasn't the one in your kitchen.

"I have to go get the food from Breadstix out of the car," Brittany says to no one in particular. She walks out again.

You empty the bags and fold them up, slipping them in the pantry like you remember Quinn's mom doing when you were smaller.

When you turn back around, Rachel is peeking out the window again. "Creeper," you state.

She rolls her eyes at you and steps away from the window. She opens a carton of strawberries and takes one out. She bites into it and takes a deep breath. You can see her thinking really deeply about something.

Before you can ask, Brittany returns with two bags labeled 'Breadstix'. Rachel's dads set out the food on the table and walk back into the kitchen where you all are. Brittany is now at your side, her hand in yours.

"Rach, are you okay?" one of her dads asks.

Your eyes move to her from the stack of breadsticks on the table and you see that her eyes are red. You know that look on her face. She's fighting tears. She sniffles and shakes her head now that everyone is looking at her. "I'm fine."

But her immediate actions to get a glass of water afterwards tell a different story.

"Rach," you say quietly, stepping over to her. You place your hand on her shoulder as she drains the glass. "What's up?"

She jerks her head toward the living room and you nod and follow her, grabbing Brittany's hand on the way. She's always been better with emotions than you.

"She's going to move out," Rachel states somberly with her arms crosses as soon as you're out of earshot of her dads, "She's going to move out and we won't be sleeping in the same bed or driving to school together or holding hands or eating lunch-" Her mouth is moving so fast you're scared she's going to hyperventilate.

"Slow down," you tell her. "First of all, none of that makes sense. Sure she maybe moving out and obviously you're not going to sleep in the same bed, but the rest of that stuff can happen."

"Yeah totally," Brittany nods, "Santana picks me up for school everyday. And we hold hands like all the time."

"But," Rachel starts, but gives up. She looks down at her feet. "She doesn't need me anymore."

You glance at Brittany. You're out of your depth here. Brittany takes your hand and addresses Rachel. "She may not need you anymore, but she still wants you."

And just like that Rachel's head rises up. Her eyes focus on Brittany as she lets the words sink in. Then she nods. "I…I guess that makes sense."

Brittany just smiles and looks at you. You smile back because she's a genius.

"Rachel," you hear Quinn calling from behind you.

She's standing in the doorway of the backdoor, a radiant smile on her face. When she has Rachel's attention she goes on, "My mom wants to…um…meet you…again."

Then Rachel's face morphs into full on panic mode, but before Brittany can talk her down, Quinn drags her outside. Rachel shoots a helpless look to her dads who just chuckle.

"That reminds me," Rachel's dad says, stepping out of the kitchen. He smiles kindly to Brittany. "May I have a word with you?"

You frown and search his face. He smiles at you and pats your shoulder. "I'm not going to be mean. I just want to talk to her."

You nod, but you're not entirely happy. You walk into the kitchen with Rachel's daddy. He smiles at you. "Don't worry. She'll be fine."

"What is he doing?" you ask, walking to the refrigerator and getting yourself some water.

"I imagine about the same thing Judy is doing," he sneakily walks over to the table, looks both ways and grabs a breadstick. He walks back over to you and offers it to you with a smile.

You break it in half, thinking. "So he's…talking to her about me?"

Rachel's daddy nods. "You and Quinn have spent a lot of time at our house over the past few months and you're like our daughter now. We're like…you're second parents. We want what's best for you."

You get overly emotional about what he tells you. You swallow all that mushy shit back and take a bite of the breadstick. When you respond, you do it with the only answer that seems to come to mind. "Thanks."

Brittany comes back with a smile on her face. She walks straight over to you and almost knocks you over in a hug. You love the smell of her. Her perfume, her shampoo, just everything about her.

Rachel's dad moves to the window to look outside. You smile at how much Rachel gets from her dads. He quickly jerks away from the window as the back door opens.

Quinn and Rachel lead the way inside, hand in hand with Judy walking in behind them a smile on her face. "What is that wonderful smell?"

"Breadstix," Rachel explains.

Judy smiles, "Wonderful. I'm sure you're all starving. Let's eat."

Rachel's dads don't want to intrude, but Judy insists that everyone stay. You're all sitting at the table, your eyes stay trained on Quinn who is being quiet despite the smile on her face. You think that she's having a problem with how okay her mom really is or is pretending to be.

After dinner, everyone helps clean up the mess and it only takes about five minutes. Rachel dads are ready to leave, you can tell. As you walk into the living room to check your phone that's been hiding in your purse all night, you hear whispering.

"I just don't want to leave you alone like this," you hear Rachel whisper.

They must be in the hallway just off of the living room.

"I'll be okay," Quinn whispers back. "My mom needs me to stay here. You know that I want to go home with you, but…"

"I understand," Rachel says more quietly than before.

"I love you okay?" Quinn tells her, "And you can pick me up for school tomorrow."

There's a pause. "I love you too. I'm just worried."

"Don't be worried," Quinn states, "We'll be fine. Maybe if my mom is okay, I'll come over this weekend."

"Fat chance," Rachel mumbles, "I'm still grounded."

Quinn chuckles, "I bet your dads would make an exception."

You hear them walking toward you and rush to your bag. You pull out your phone and see a few texts, but don't really look at them.

"I'll be right there," you hear Quinn say from behind you.

There is no more talking so you look up from your phone like you didn't hear their conversation. Quinn is standing there with her hands folded in front of her. She kicks at the ground, "Can I ask you a huge favor Santana?"

You nod, unsure of her request, but positive that you want to help.

"Can you…stay the night?" she asks. "I don't…I can't really sleep without Rachel and…I'm scared."

You don't ask her why she didn't let Rachel stay. You don't ask her why she just doesn't take her mom to the Berry house like you heard Rachel's dads talking about it. You just nod because you can see the terror in her eyes.

"Thank you," she licks her lips. "Just…don't tell Rachel okay?"

You nod again. "Sure."

Quinn nods to herself and walks back to the kitchen where everyone is.

The Berrys leave shortly after that and you have Brittany take your car home. She seems to understand your need to stay and hugs you, squeezing you tightly.

"I'll bring breakfast tomorrow," Brittany tells you before she walks to your car.

You just close the door when you hear Judy walk into the living room behind Quinn. "Well I don't know about you girls, but I've had a long day. I'm going to go to bed." She lets out a wistful smile, "In my own bed."

Quinn nods, "We're going to sleep in here." Quinn motions to the couch. Somehow you feel like you're not going to get much sleep.

After you change into some of Quinn's rejected old sweat pants and a t-shirt from middle school cheer camp that is too short. Quinn is not much better off in a pair of cotton shorts that you're sure are from the 80s and a holey sweatshirt.

"Sorry," she apologizes as you walk to the living room, some old blankets in your arms. "All my stuff is at…Rachel's."

You nod, "Not a problem." You make a mental note to text Brittany to ask she if you can borrow some clothes from her to bring you tomorrow.

You make Quinn take the couch by threatening to pull her weave out. She just laughs at you and you smile because that was your intention. You're laying across the loveseat, your feet and head propped up by the arms.

Quinn falls asleep after about an hour of watching black and white movies. You've been texting Brittany and not really paying attention so you don't know what's going on, but you figure that the movies remind Quinn of Rachel and are comforting in some way.

You nod off around one after Brittany has already fallen asleep, your phone hanging limply in your hand.

A creak jerks your out of your sleep. You open your eyes and look around. Many nights of sleeping alone in one of Lima's larger houses has turned you into a light sleeper. You check your phone and see that it's barely past four. You can see Quinn on the couch, her blanket on the floor and her arm hanging off of the couch, no doubt not sleeping very well at all.

Then you hear the creak again. It sounds like it's coming from upstairs so you get up to see what it is. It's freezing, so you wrap your blanket around you and hold your phone close. A small smile plays on your lips when you imagine what would happen if it's Rachel, sneaking in to check on Quinn and you walk in and scare her. You have to contain a small chuckle as you walk up the stairs.

However as you reach the top of the stairs, you hear something that sounds like a sniffle. As you walk down the hallway, you find only one door open. It's the door to Jenny's room. You swallow and slowly lean forward to peek in the room.

Judy is sitting on the bed, tears streaming down her face. You feel the air being sucked out of your lungs. She's in her Florence Henderson nightgown, staring at the ground.

Apparently a breath too many escapes your lips and her head jerks up to look at you. Your mouth is dry, but you manage to ask, "Are you…okay?"

She nods and wipes her face, standing from the bed. "I'm sorry I woke you."  
"It's fine," you wave off her apology. "Do you need anything?"

She gives you a sad smile, "No thank you honey. I just…my therapist said that I…shut down because it stopped me from dealing with Jenny's death. Like it wouldn't be real. I'm just…trying to move through this." She sighs. "I'll be okay. Thank you for coming to check on me. Would you like some tea?"

You don't know what else to do, but agree. She walks past you and leads the way down the stairs. You follow her into the kitchen where she turns on the light. She pats the back of one of the chairs in the kitchen. You take that as a request to sit down so you do.

She looks at a box of tea from the cabinet and asks, "Chamomile okay with you?"

"Sure," you nod.

"I hate to ask, but can you tell me about Rachel?" Judy asks as she moves around the kitchen making the coffee. "I know she and Quinn used to be friends, but…she seems really sweet."

"She is," you agree, pulling the blanket tighter around you. The tile of the kitchen floor is cold so you pull your feet up in the chair. "Rachel would do anything for Quinn."

Judy walks to the table with two cups of tea and a bottle of honey. "That's good to hear. Quinn told me all about Rachel and how she's been taking care of her. She also told me a lot about you."

Your eyes drop to the table. When someone hears about you from other people, it's rarely good.

She chuckles, "Don't worry. It was all good. She told me how you've been there for her through all of this, doing whatever she needed. You being here with her on a school night is a testament to that."

You run your finger over the rim of your mug. "She's my best friend… besides Brittany."

"How are you and Brittany?" Judy asks with a motherly smile. "I feel like I'm so out of the loop now."

"We're good," you smile back at her. You bring the tea to your lips and softly blow on it before you take a sip. "We both got into universities in New York. Brittany's going to dance and I'm going to…do something."

"You have time to figure it out," she smiles at you.

You tentatively ask her about Pennsylvania. She understandingly glazes over the grounds where she stayed. She tells you about the horses and the hiking trails. You can tell she feels relieved to tell someone and you're happy to help because it in turn might help Quinn.

When the tea is gone, she sends you to bed and disappears down the hallway toward her bedroom. You easily fall asleep on the loveseat, burrowed in your blanket.

"Santana," you hear someone sing softly in your ear.

You smile because it's the one voice that you love hearing first thing in the morning. When you slowly open your eyes, Brittany is smiling at you. She gives you a good morning kiss and then tells you that it's time to go to school.

"Rachel and Quinn already left," Brittany explains. "Rachel wasn't really too happy when she found out you were here."

You sit up and run a hand through your hair. "Shit."

"Yeah," Brittany stands up and picks up a purple bag off of the floor. "I brought you some clothes and breakfast is in the car."

"Did you get coffee?" you ask her, opening the bag. You stifle a laugh. This is definitely more of a Brittany outfit than a Santana one.

She nods. "Of course." She looks at the bag, "I also brought your emergency makeup bag that was in my bathroom."

You smile. Emergency makeup bag meaning the small bag you have of essentials. A toothbrush, your shade of mascara, nail polish, a hair tie, nail file, a sample bottle of your perfume and a fifty dollar bill. "Thank you." You kiss her, "I'm going to go get read. I'll be five minutes."

"Cool," she smiles.

In the bathroom, you get ready, brush your hair, pull on the purple demin shorts and baggy, off-the-shoulder shirt. You pull on the blue trapper hat and the brightly colored leg warmers because it is fairly chilly outside. But you're going to wear it because she'll be disappointed if you don't.

When you walk out, she hands you a puffy coat that is definitely from her closet. You smile and pull it on, "You're the best."

You drink coffee, eat pastries and rock out on the way to school. Being with Brittany always makes you so happy especially when she's smiling the way she is.

"I told my mom about Tisch last night," she smiles as you pull into the school parking lot. "She told me that she's going to start looking at the dorms we're supposed to stay in."

You smile back. You get more excited about the idea of living with Brittany everyday. When you both walk into school hand in hand, you get a few weird, but knowing looks. It's completely obvious that Brittany dressed you, but you don't care. They have their weird looks. You have New York and Brittany.

At your locker, you open it without actually thinking about it. Brittany is playing with your free hand. You look inside and try to decide what you need. Your fingers run over the spines of all of your books before you pull out a magazine and your trusty emery board. You scan the locker again and decide that's all you need for your English class.

You close the locker and drop Brittany off at Home Ec with an innocent school kiss before heading to your own class.


	22. Invisible City by The Wallflowers

From your seat behind Rachel, you can see her shooting dirty looks toward Santana even though Santana is obliviously reading her magazine and texting Brittany.

You know that she's not happy with you for letting Santana stay last night. You feel bad and Rachel seems to be directing her anger at Santana instead of you, which you know is entirely not fair at all.

You reach forward and run your fingers through her silky hair. You can see her leaning back into your hand. So you reach forward and hook your hand around her hair so you can massage the back of her scalp.

You lean forward and whisper, "Stop glaring at Santana. She only did what I asked her to."

Rachel turns sideways in her desk to look at you. "I know that, but why couldn't I stay?"

"Because," you sigh. "I don't-"

"Quinn," you hear the teacher snap, "Something you'd like to share with the class?"

You and Rachel both sit up straight. "No. Sorry."

You see Santana's hand shoot up. The teacher sighs and Santana just devilishly smirks, "Can I go to the library? Or something…I finished this dumb project last week."

The teacher rolls her eyes and gestures to the door. Santana shoots you and Rachel a smile before taking off.

You quickly raise your hand. "May I go to the choir room? I have a song to work on with Rachel."

The teacher doesn't seem to care anymore and just flails her arm at the door. You stand up and Rachel stands with you, following you out the door.

In the hallway, you reach back and take her hand without having to look for it. She looks up at you with an unsure gaze, her eyes peering out from behind her bangs. You both make your way into the choir room and find someone there you weren't expecting.

"Oh, um…" Santana trails off, her eyes flickering to Rachel and then darting away, "I'll just go to the-"

"You can stay," Rachel tells her. "I'm not - I'm not mad." She pauses and licks her lips, "I'm just a little…hurt."

The word 'hurt' breaks your heart. You never meant to hurt her. That was the last thing that you wanted. "I am so sorry Rachel. I didn't mean to hurt you. I-I didn't want you to…How much more crap can you handle from me? It's been months of you taking care of me and I…I know you're an incredibly understanding person Rach." You look in her eyes and see her absorbing everything that you're saying and you know that she wants to interrupt you and say something, but she's holding her tongue.

You take both of her hands and hold them to your heart, "But what if it's too much? There's only so much you can take."

"Quinn, I love you so much," Rachel tells you desperately. "Nothing will ever be too much."

You look down at both of your feet between you. "I love you too." Rachel looks down to and your heads rest together as you stare at your feet. "And I slept horribly last night. You weren't there and…I need to be able to stand on my own in order for this to work. You've given up so much for me. You gave up ballet and vocal lessons and your own room. Even your dads. You saved me and I want to save you too. Not like you saved me, but I want to be strong enough to be there for you."

Rachel sniffles and you look up at her. There are tears in her eyes. You reach up and brush away a few stray tears. "I understand." She lets out a smile, "At least nothing happened right? Everyone slept through the night."

You nod with a smile.

"Actually," Santana says from the top riser in the choir room. She's leaned back in the chair with her feet in the chair next to her. "That's not entirely true."

You look up at her, "What do you mean?" You woke up three times and all three times, Santana was sound asleep on the loveseat.

Santana makes a face like she doesn't want to tell you. Then she relents, "In the middle of the night I heard someone moving around upstairs and I went to see what it was. Your mom was in Jenny's room, sitting on the bed. She was crying. When I got there she told me that the whole not talking thing was-"

"Her way of not dealing with Jenny's death," you finish for her. Your mom explained all of this to you the night she came home.

"Right," Santana nods. "Then we talked for a while in the kitchen."

"What did you talk about?" you ask. Now you're a little jealous. Months of silence and a drastic life change and now she's talking to Santana."

"She asked me about Rachel," Santana smirks, "Don't worry. I told her Rachel had an alter for satan in her basement."

"Santana!" Rachel squeals. You smile because you're half sure she's joking.

"Chill out Baby Streisand," Santana laughs. "I told her that you were possibly the greast thing that's ever happened to Quinn besides meeting me. We also talk about college and Brittany and horses. Then she sent me to bed."

"Horses?" you furrow your eyebrows.

"Yeah, in Pennsylvania," Santana nods off handedly, staring at the screen of her phone before she starts typing. "She didn't tell me any of your family secrets. She just told me about the place. The horses and trees and stuff."

Rachel wraps her arms around your waist. You can't really tell how Rachel knows exactly how things will affect you. You didn't know that her words would disappoint you. You figured your mom talking to people would make you ecstatic.

"Should I not have talked to her?" you looked up from the swirling ground to see Santana addressing you.

You shake your head, "It's fine. You can talk to her. It's just...she didn't tell me all that much about it."

Santana stands and walks over to you and Rachel, putting her arms around both of you. "It's because your life is way more interesting than mine."

You giggle with Rachel and feel relieved that you have these two amazing girls with her.

Suddenly a song drifts between the three of you. _For you, they'll be no more crying. For you, the sun will be shining..._

Santana quickly takes out her phone and points to the both of you, "If anyone asks, my ringtone is My Chick Bad. Got it?"

You and Rachel have a problem containing your chuckles and looking at each other doesn't help. Santana answers her phone with a sweet voice reserved for her one and only. "Hey B..." She immediately frowns, "We're in the choir room...ok. See you." You watch her hang up. She looks tentatively at Rachel, "Brittany's on her way, with your dads."

"Wha- what?" Rachel stutters, "Did she say why?"

As Santana shakes her head, three sets of footsteps rush through the doorway, Brittany leading the two Berry men.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asks in a panic. You quickly move behind her in case she needs you. She takes a step back maybe sensing that you're there and lets you hold her around her waist.

Her dads both smile as Brittany breaks off from them and goes to Santana. "Nothing," Daddy tells her. "In fact..." he trails off and hands Rachel a letter.

She holds the letter in both of her hands and by the sudden tremors running through her hands, she read where it was from. In her hands, was the letter that decided her future.

"We couldn't wait," Dad tells her, looking over his husband's shoulder.

Rachel's hands start shaking more than you've ever seen. You can feel her whole body shaking. "Are you okay?" you ask her softly in her ear as soothingly as possible.

She looks from her dads to you and holds your eyes. "I...I can't open it. What if I didn't get in?"

"What if you did?" you tell her as reassuringly as possible. "Take a deep breath." She does as instructed and a smile is now firmly on her face.

"Okay," she smiles up at you like you single handedly saved a dozen infants from a burning building. "Kiss for luck?"

You smile stupidly at her request. After a moments hesitation because her dads are right there, you give her a peck on the lips. After another loving look, she looks down at her letter. "Whatever happens, we'll be together right?"

"Of course," you nod firmly. Even if she goes to college in Antarctica you will be right there with her.

That seems to reassure her and she rips open the letter. This isn't the dainty letter opening you expect. She rips off one end of the envelope and yanks out the letter with all the grace of a rabid bulldog. Her hands fumble as she opens the letter and she quickly reads it.

"I got an audition!" she squeals and jumps into her dads' arms. Then she turns around and jumps literally on you. Her legs wrap around your waist and her arms hold onto your shoulders for dear life. At first you stumble, but you hold her easily. Then she kisses you. She kisses you like you were the one that let her in to Julliard. She kisses you like you typed up the letter, sealed it and dropped it into the mail. She kisses you like you had anything at all to do with it.

When she pulls away she smiles at you so brightly you momentarily fear going blind. She kisses you one more time before letting her feet touch the ground and running over to Santana, almost knocking her over.

Of course as of that second, you're the only one without an acceptance letter to anywhere. Rachel's dads seem to sense that and both put a hand on your shoulders. "Someday soon you'll all be in New York and we'll have to come visit you." Dad rubs your shoulder.

You just nod. College or not, you're moving to New York with Rachel. You tune in into Rachel, Santana, and Brittany's conversations long enough to hear Santana talk about going with her to the audition to scope out NYU and look for somewhere to live because they're moving in May.

"Wow, you're starting that early?" Rachel asks Brittany.

The blonde seems excited. She turns to Santana who smiles back. Santana exhales, "Geez, I have to start packing."

Everyone laughs. But it does get you thinking. All of your stuff is still at Rachel's house. You feel like you're being pulled in two different directions. You want to be with her. You miss sleeping next to her. You had to use a ridiculous amount of concealer under your eyes this morning to keep from looking like you can't sleep without her.

On the other hand, you can't make your mom stay in that house alone. Especially with your sister's bedroom. You figure that you should probably gather some of your things from Rachel's house so that you have something to wear. You just... don't want to take your things away. That feels like your room too and you don't want to dismantle any part of what your life has become over these last few months.

"Okay," Daddy claps his hands together. "I think this calls for a celebratory dinner. How's tonight at the nicest restaurant in town?"

"Breadstix?" Santana's eyes light up and everyone laughs.

"I was thinking about Chez Lune," he smiles at everyone.

After the plans are made, Rachel's dads leave. They both have to get back to work and your next class starts soon.

Brittany and Santana are dancing around on the floor next to the piano while you and Rachel sit in the chairs. Her legs are draped over you and her head is propped up by her hand, her elbow on the back of the chair.

"You know," you say, tracing your fingers over her knees. "Maybe my mom coming back is a good thing right now. You can start going back to ballet or vocal lessons if you want."

Rachel studies your face. She lifts up her head and extends her hands toward you. She runs her fingers through your hair and cradles your head. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," you immediately nod. "This audition is once in a lifetime. I don't want you to feel like you're not as prepared as you could be because of me."

"Hey," she smiles at you like you're the only person in the whole world that she'll ever love. "You're more important to me than Julliard or New York."

You quickly shake your head. "You've wanted this forever. Until your audition, I'm going to be the most supportive person ever. I want you to go to all the things you gave up because of me and I'll drive your there and I'll sit and watch. This is your dream. I want it to happen for you."

She leans forward and kisses you softly. "Thank you for supporting me and my dreams."

"It'll pay off soon," you tell her.

The bell rings as she kisses you again.

So after school, she goes with her dads to sign back up for vocal lessons and ballet. That will occupy her time four days a week after school. Her dads tell her that her grounding is still in place and she has to come straight home after both.

So a week goes by. There's spontaneous crying at your house from your mother. Sometimes you'll walk into the kitchen and she'll look at you and you know for the briefest second she sees Jenny. Or she'll walk past Jenny's room and start bawling.

But you know it's better this way. At least she's alive. She's always going around the house cooking and cleaning. She took up knitting at the treatment center which surprised you, but if it works for her, you're happy.

Separating from Rachel has been torturous though. She finds ways to sneak her phone at night or video chat with you at night. You're sure that her dads know, but they haven't said anything because they know it's hard on you.

You just dropped Rachel off at ballet a couple hours ago and are laying on the couch, watching TV because her dads are picking her up. Your mom walks in and stands behind the couch. You look up at her and she smiles, "You know you don't have to stay here."

You don't know what to say to that because you feel obligated to stay.

"C'mon," your mom picks up a pillow off of the couch and hits you in the face with it, "Go have fun. I bet Rachel's home by now. You should go visit her. I made her a scarf." Your mom walks over to her chair and picks up her latest creation. "Take this to her."

"Really?" you ask, unsure.

She drops the scarf on your lap. "Get out of here."

You decide to not look a gift horse in the mouth and leave. You take the scarf and your car and make your way to Rachel's house.

When you get there, both of her dads' cars are gone. You figure that they're just not home yet so you let yourself in with your key. You need to get some clothes for tomorrow anyway.

You close and lock the door, making your way up to where your room used to be. It's quiet in the house as you walk straight to the bedroom. The door is closed, which you find weird. Rachel usually always leaves her door open when she's not home.

But it doesn't bother you that much and you open the door. That's when you find out the house wasn't so empty. After a few seconds of just looking like a dear in the headlights. "Oh my god Quinn!" Rachel shrieks and dives under the covers.

You can't for the life of you move. You have your hand on the doorknob and you're standing halfway in the door. You're still trying to process what just happened. Her mouth was slightly parted and her hand was down the front of her panties. Her back was arched and... "Oh my god," you breath and jump out the door, closing it behind you.

You run down the stairs and stop at the bottom of them when you hear the door open and close again. "Quinn!" Rachel calls after you.

She's standing at the top of the stairs now clothed in a robe and you're standing at the foot. You look up at her. You want to feel embarrassed, but you can't. All you can feel is aroused.

"It's not..." she starts as she descends that stairs, "Well it was what it looked like...but it's- it's perfectly natural."

As soon as she gets close enough, you grab her by the waist and your lips crash together. She's still on the bottom step so she's a little taller than you as her tongue slides against your own. One of your hands gets adventurous and pulls open her robe. You can feel her gasp into your mouth and it does nothing other than to turn you on that much more.

Then your hand meets the smooth skin of her thigh. Her head breaks away from yours as your hand strokes the outside of her thigh. You eagerly kiss her neck and feel her legs begin to give out. So you catch her. You sit her down carefully on the stairs and settle between her legs still kissing and nipping at her neck.

"Oh Quinn," she pants. She grabs onto your neck and pulls you closer to her. Your hand moves up to cup her ass and you feel her hips move toward you.

Then something inside you clicks. You pull away and look at her. Her head is resting on a stair behind her hand she's panting heavily when her eyes meet yours. You shake your head, "We can't do this here." She looks up at you, shocked and maybe a little disappointed. You reach forward and cup her cheek. You kiss her softly and lovingly. "You deserve for your first time to be perfect." You make sure to say the last word slowly and carefully so she knows how much it means to you.

She smiles slowly and pulls you down to kiss you again. "I love you Quinn."

"I love you too," you echo and rest your forehead on her. "So, do I need to let you go upstairs and finish?"

She smiles, "That might be a good idea. Since you made it worse all over again."

You chuckle, a little proud because you can elicit that response from her body. "Someday okay?"

She nods and kisses you. "Someday."

You go into the living room and flip on the tv. It does feel a little weird, knowing exactly what Rachel is doing upstairs, but you try to focus on the show on TV.

"You dropped your scarf," you hear Rachel say a few minutes later.

"That was fast," you comment as she drops on the couch next to you.

She raises an eyebrow, "Ha, ha."

"My mom made that scarf for you," you take the scarf from Rachel and loop it around her neck. "She apparently knits now."

"It's cute," Rachel runs her hands over the material, "And soft. If I could leave the house I would thank her in person."

"How was ballet?" you ask her, putting your arm around her.

She leans into you, her arms taking their place around your waist. You both fall sideways on the couch, giggling. She rests her head on your chest, "It was grueling. I'm going to be sore tomorrow."

"I can carry you around tomorrow if you want," you smile.

She chuckles, "You may have to."

You both lay on the couch and watch TV for a while. During a commercial, Rachel pushes up on her elbows on either side of you and looks down at you. "Guess what."

You look up at her and see excitement in her eyes. There's a pure joy in her eyes that warms your insides. "What?"

"We're going to New York soon," Rachel grins. "I scheduled my audition for next month and my dads bought the plane tickets and Santana bought hers and Brittany's. Santana's mom is coming too. We got you one too. You can bring your mom too if you want. It'll be fun. It's just a weekend because it's during school, but it's New York."

You smile at her. Going to New York with your friends and Rachel's dads and your mom sounds like a blast. "That'll be awesome."

"Really?" Rachel asks with wide eyes and a smile that's threatening to break out. "You want to come?"

"Of course," you kiss her briefly, "I have to be there with you for your audition."

She collapses on top of you and squeezes, "Thank you so much. I don't think I could do it without you."

"You could," you tell her and kiss her head, "But you won't have to."


	23. Always In My Head by Psapp

"One hand in the air for the big city," Santana is singing in the row behind you with Brittany dancing in her chair, both of their hands swaying in the air. "Street lights, but dreams all lookin' pretty. No place in the world that can compare. Put your lighters in the air everybody say yeah."

"Yeah!" you, Rachel, and Brittany say.

All of you start cracking up. Santana's mom, your mom and Rachel's dads chuckle at you.

Santana's mom is sporting an NYU shirt proudly as she sits behind her daughter. You also know that, under their button-ups, Rachel's dads are wearing Julliard shirts. Rachel told them not to because she wasn't in yet so they're hiding it for after her audition.

Then you look next to Santana's mom. Your mom is wearing her regular shirt. You tell Rachel that you don't, but you feel gutted that you're the only one among the group without an academic plan. She told you that everyone just applied before you, but what if it was too late. What if they didn't have enough spots for you and the only place you get into is Lima Community College. You're still going to New York with Rachel, but... college was your plan. If that is taken from you, you don't have a plan.

There were a few claps in the back of the plane when Santana finished singing. In true Santana fashion, she stood up and bowed. Brittany pulled her down back into her seat and they laugh together.

You turn back in your seat to see Rachel staring at her sheet music. You don't know what she's doing other than stressing herself out. So you snatch the paper away. "Quinn!" she reaches for it, but you hold it away from her.

"You're just freaking yourself out," you reach over the seat in front of you and hand the sheet music to her daddy. "Your audition is tomorrow and you're as ready as you're ever going to be. Tonight we are going to have a good time. Tomorrow you're going to kill your audition. So right now," she takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. "You're going to relax."

"I can't relax," she huffs, "I'm freaking out." She shakes out her hands.

"Don't freak out," you lean over and kiss her cheek.

She licks her lips and closes her eyes. After a few cleansing breaths, she nods. "I'll try."

She leans over you on the descent down to the airport. You can see Manhattan from the plane, but you're more interested in watching Rachel's wide eyes. You did the same thing when you all flew in for Nationals. You watched her just stare at the city. You could see all of her dreams flash over her eyes. From her big Broadway dreams to her a little bagel dreams.

At the airport, you all get your bags and load them on a cart that Rachel's dad so chivalrously pushes to a large van cab. It's cramped but the driver doesn't seem to care at all. He speeds you through town until he hits traffic, which you sit in for a good half hour. Finally you pull up to your hotel.

"So how is this room thing going to go?" Santana asks as she pulls her bag behind her and holding Brittany's hand.

"Well, we got three rooms in a row," Rachel's dad says.

Santana looks mischievously at Brittany, "Well, I think after we drop off our jump, we're going to take off."

"Oh no," her mom says, "Last time I left you alone in New York you spend eight hundred dollars at Tiffany's."

"You told me it wasn't that much," Brittany's hand immediately goes to the necklace hanging around her neck.

"You went to Tiffany's too?" Rachel asks as you all stop at the check-in desk.

"Of course," Santana nods. "We went while Q was getting her hair cut. You can't go to New York without going to Tiffany's."

You wondered where they had run off to while you were sitting in the salon chair. "I didn't go to Tiffany's."

Rachel smiles at you, "We can go this time. Maybe we can have breakfast there tomorrow before my audition."

You pull her into your arms and give her a squeeze. She laughs into your shoulder and holds you right back. She's so sweet and so great to you.

"Good news," Rachel's dad walks back over to the group. "We have three rooms that are connected." He passes out the room keys and you all head for the elevators.

"So how are we going to split up the rooms?" Daddy asks in the elevators.

"Well there are two beds per room," Dad says as the doors ding open. You take Rachel's hand and grab her rolling bag that has yours on top of it.

You look back at your mom. She's been great this entire trip. She's just like you remember her from before. She's become fast friends with Santana's mom. They've been talking and laughing together since you left Lima. You're glad that your mom has made a new friend.

"There are six beds and eight people," Santana's mom shrugs. "I assume you two gentlemen are going to sleep in the same bed and Santana will give me hell if she doesn't get to sleep in the same bed at Brittany." Santana wears a triumphant smile until her mom rolls her eyes, "The door between our rooms is going to be open, mija. Don't look so smug." Santana's smile washes away into a pout.

You can see Rachel silently pleading with her dads and you know exactly why so you turn to your mom and do the same thing. You mom just smiles and brushes the bangs out of your eyes, "You're an adult now Quinnie. I'm not going to stop you."

So you turn back to Rachel who isn't having as good of luck. Brittany and Santana are already off to their room, opening the room. You can hear their bags drop to the ground and the sound of two Cheerios jumping on a bed.

You leave Rachel to her dads and follow them. They are definitely both jumping on one of the beds. You set your things on the other bed and just watch them with a smile. You can see the two doors that lead to the other rooms. You hear a knock on one of them and walk over to the door. When you open it Rachel is there with a huge grin on her face. "Guess who gets to have a sleepover."

You smile and throw your arms around her. It's been so long since you've gotten to share a bed with Rachel. The few times that you did get to stay over at her house, you both fell asleep in the living room before you could go up to bed.

There's a knock on the opposite door, which you open as well. Santana's mom is standing there and you can see your mom moving around in the background. "You tell Santana that this door stays open."

You smile and tell Mrs. Lopez that you will let her know.

You walk back into the room and see Rachel already going through the entertainment pamphlets in the nightstand. You lay down next to her and she rests her head on your stomach.

You can feel her breathing as she flips through all the glossy pictures. "What should we do first?"

"NYU!" Santana says as she jumps with Brittany on the other bed.

"Aren't we doing that tomorrow?" Brittany asks.

Santana grins, "Sorry, I'm just excited." She tackles Brittany down onto the bed. You hear her call, "I love you."

"I love you too," Brittany giggles as they wrestle around on the bed.

Santana finally falls off of the bed with Brittany bounding after her, apologizing. Santana starts laughing and grabs onto the blonde pulling her onto the floor.

Rachel tilts her head up to look at you, "How are we supposed to sleep with these people?"

You laugh and run your hand through Rachel's hair. "We'll lock them in the closet."

"She's never going back into the closet!" Brittany says with a squeal as Santana flips them over, straddling Brittany's hips. She sits back and pushes her hair out of her face.

"Dios mio," you hear from the door. You turn to see Santana's mom standing in the doorway. "Do open doors mean nothing to you?"

"Neither does sitting in the middle of glee," Rachel whispers to you.

Both of you giggle.

"Brittany," Santana's mom puts her hands on her hips as she looked at her daughter and her girlfriend on the floor, "I'm so glad you're not a boy."

Santana and Brittany laugh and get up off of the ground. Santana's mom walks over to them and pulls them into her arms. "You both grew up too fast."

You see your mom enter the room out of the corner of your eye. You smile at her and pat the bed next to you after she sees Santana's mom holding Brittany and Santana telling them that she wishes they were still little and chasing each other on the playground.

Your mom sits by your head and you place your head in her lap, keeping Rachel's head on your stomach. You close your eyes as your mom runs her nails across your scalp. "What do you girls want to do?"

You see Rachel check her phone. "I don't care as long as we're back here by nine. It'll take me hours to get to sleep."

"How about we go see a matinee show?" Daddy says from the doorway of his bedroom. "Anything Goes or Spider-Man?"

Rachel shoots up and sends her Daddy a fiery glare. You've heard her half our rant about Spider-Man the musical. To sum it all up, she is venomously against it – the whole production from the idea to the songbook.

Daddy laughs and pulls an envelope out of his back pocket. "I guess it's a good thing I got us all tickets to Anything Goes then."

Rachel flies off of the bed and throws her arms around her dad. He chuckles and rubs her back affectionately. Then he looks over the rest of you. "We'd like to take everyone to lunch before the show if that's ok."

Everyone agrees and you all go out to eat. Then at the show you can see Rachel's excited. You feel excited as well. This is like taking a glimpse into her future. You feel like Santana feels the same way. She's watching Brittany's face through the whole production. You can see Brittany hands and arms twitching like she's doing the choreography with the dancers from her seat and is just itching to get up there.

Rachel's holding your hand and she's holding Santana's hand. You get that Rachel and Santana are friends now and you get that Santana has been in love with Brittany since she laid eyes on the dancer, but that doesn't stop you from feeling the slight sting of jealousy in the back of your stomach. You try to concentrate on the show and thread your fingers through Rachel's.

When the curtain goes down, Rachel is the first one on her feet, clapping. You stand with her and soon the whole audience is on their feet.

"Check this one out," Santana hands a folded newspaper over to Brittany and her mom. "I could get down with that."

Santana's mom looks it over with Brittany before looking at her daughter, "That apartment costs more than our house. You graduate from college and you can buy it yourself."

Santana is about to remark back when Brittany hands the paper back, "What about this one?"

They've been looking at ads for apartments for fifteen minutes. It freaks you out a little bit that they're going to be moving her in only a few months. They're not even going to have a semblance of a vacation. Brittany has ten days between graduation and the summer program and Santana is going with her, getting summer job and waiting for her classes to start.

You feel Rachel take your hand under the table. You turn your head toward her and see her tracing your face for any kind of emotion. You give her a weak smile and kiss her. The kiss is light and quick because you're still frightened of kissing her properly in front of her dads.

"So what's next?" your mom asks.

"Whatever you ladies would like to do," Rachel's dad answered, "But after a meal such as this, I suggest that we not take a cab because the extreme movement may cause a reappearance of lunch."

"Gross Daddy," Rachel turns to him with a scrunched up nose. She's so cute.

You lean your shoulder on hers and look around the round table you're sitting at. You see your mom looking at you. She gives you a gentle smile and once again you're so happy that she's back. You're happy that she's better, even if she's not completely better. She's talking and she's hugging and she's feeling. She reaches across the table and you meet her halfway, holding her hand.

As you're all walking along the street, trying to figure out where you're going next, your mom puts her arm around your shoulder. Rachel is up front with her dads while Brittany, Santana, and Santana's mom walk in the middle.

"Why aren't you looking at apartments as well?" your mom asks.

You look over at her. You guess that you've been so focused on Rachel's audition and your own application limbo that you didn't think about it. "We have time right?" you sort of state, sort of ask.

Your mom nods. "I suppose so. However, you girls may get a better deal if you start looking now."

"Well, we don't really know where to look," you shrug. "I haven't gotten in anywhere, but...I guess getting an apartment near Julliard would probably be a safe bet."

"She is pretty amazing," your mom says.

Pride blossoms in your chest when your mom says things like that. Rachel is amazing and you're glad that your mom knows it.

"It makes me feel better that you girls are going to be in this city together," your mom sighs and looks around. "It can be a big scary place, but you girls – your four have each other. And you have Rachel." Your mom squeezes you around your shoulders, "I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks mom," you smile and look up at the back of Rachel. Rachel seems to know you're looking and turns around. She gives you a huge smile and blows you a kiss before turning back around and pointing out a billboard to her dads.

"What if we all moved in together?" Brittany asks.

You're not sure if you were meant to hear it, but you did nonetheless. It seems everyone else did as well because they're all looking at Brittany. She just kinda shrugs. "I meant we could get a two bedroom and save a ton of money." She sees you and Rachel looking at her. "I know you guys aren't moving until the fall, but Santana and I could get a two bedroom and set everything up."

"That's... actually not a bad idea," Daddy says rubbing the scruff on his chin. "I'd feel better know that when Quinn is out at school and Rachel is home, there's a smaller chance of her being alone."

You look at your mom. You're not sure how she's going to react to the whole sharing a bedroom with Rachel thing. She knows that you spent most of her comatose state in Rachel's bed, but now that she's better, that could change things.

Santana's mom looks around between the parents. "I think it's great idea. It would certainly help with the cost of living here and we wouldn't have to worry about them running out of money."

"Girls?" Dad asks.

You're all now standing in the middle of the sidewalk as people brush by so you all step into the small shop out of the way. Your eyes bounce between Santana who is seriously thinking it over to Brittany who looks ecstatic. When you get to Rachel she just looks excited. You can't help, but feel her excitement.

"Yeah, I'm with my girl," Santana smiles at Brittany swinging their hands between them. "It would be a great thing.

Rachel scoots over to you and hugs your waist. You can feel your mom put her hand on Rachel's shoulder. Rachel smiles at your mom and you are so excited with how well they get along. Especially seeing as how you're going to be living with Rachel – sharing a bedroom no less.

"I'll take these two apartment hunting tomorrow," Santana's mom affectionately smoothes out Santana's hair, "There's no eye more scrutinizing that this one's."

Santana nods with a slightly cocky smirk.

So it's decided. You're all moving in together. You'd be lying if you said you couldn't see waking up in the morning next to a sleeping Rachel and then walking into the living room to see Brittany and Santana already up, cuddling on the couch, eating cereal out of the same bowl, and watching Sweet Valley High.

"So a two bedroom?" Santana's mom asks. She looks at Rachel's dads and then at your mom. "Are you all okay with that?"

You can see Rachel's dads look over at your mom. Your eyes turn up to your mom. She looks down at you and gives you a soft smile. "You're an adult now Quinn. If that's what you want to do then I support you. I know that you and Rachel will take care of each other."

"We will," you shyly smile at Rachel. She smiles and kisses your cheek.

"I agree," Daddy says, "They shared a bedroom already. If anyone can cohabitate successfully with our little diva, it's Quinn."

Everyone laughs.

"So where to now?" Dad asks putting his arm around his husband.

"Don't they have boat tours around the island?" Santana's mom asks. "That could be fun."

You spend the afternoon doing touristy things all around the island. When you end up in the hotel room, you're wiped and you know Rachel has got to bed.

"I think it's time for you to go to sleep," you say to Rachel as she walks into the bedroom from the bathroom.

She nods and flops into the bed next to you. "I'm nervous."

You smile at her. You and everyone that's ever seen her sing know that she has absolutely no reason to be nervous. They're going to love her. You tell her that they will and she smiles at you. "I hope so."

You dip your head down and kiss her. You hope your kisses calm her even a fraction of how her kisses calm you. When you pull away, she smiles at you and cups your cheek. "We're really doing this aren't we?"

You let out a huge smile, "We are."

You see her eyes catch something on the other side of the room. You follow her gaze and see Brittany and Santana hunched over something that's on their bed. It looks like a map on a bulletin board with all kinds of pins in it. Occasionally they will consult Brittany's computer.

"What are you doing?" Rachel asks, sitting up.

Brittany looks over at you while Santana taps the end of a marker to her lips before scribbling on the map. "We're looking for an apartment."

You're curious to see how they're going about doing this because they're basically picking out where you live. You know Rachel will want to know as well so you pull her with you over to them.

It's a map of Manhattan. There are 'x's and circles as well some random numbers. There are two big red circles on the map.

"What are the circles?" you ask.

"Julliard and NYU," Santana states, not taking her eyes off of the map. "Black boxes are areas of high crime according t the Uniform Crime Report and the NYPD online databank. Green circles are potential apartments and the purple line is the subway lines that go to Julliard and NYU." You can see the intensity of her eyes as she looks over the map.

"This is impressive," Rachel says and moves to Santana's side. They start talking and pointing and making more marks.

Brittany looks at you with an amused smile. "Uh oh."

You laugh. With Santana's need for perfection and Rachel's anal retentiveness, you bet that they'll have thousands of apartment narrowed down to three within half an hour.

You finally have to pull Rachel away from the map so that she can get an adequate amount of sleep before her audition. You both go say goodnight to her dads and then to yours and Santana's mom.

When you get back to your bed, Brittany and Santana are packing up for the night. They board is put aside and Brittany's laptop is closed.

You get to wrap up in Rachel for the first time in way too long and hold her against your body as you both drift off to sleep. You love it and you can't wait to do it in your apartment in the city.


	24. Boy Lilikoi by Jonsi

"Santana," you hear a whisper in your ear, "Wake up wake up wake up."

You slowly open your eyes expecting to find an excited Brittany. Instead you find a wide-eyed Rachel. It makes you jump because you weren't expecting brown hair and a nervous smile. You bury your face in your pillow, "What?"

"I need you to sing with me," Rachel whispers, "Immediately."

"What-" you squint at her, "Why? Quinn is right over there."

Rachel glances back at her girlfriend who was still asleep, unlike you. She looks back at you, "Because I need to exercise my vocal chords. I was hoping you'd sing a few songs from West Side Story with me. A Boy Like That."

"I don't think I even remember the words." Lie. You remember the words. You can just feel Brittany curled against your back. You want to roll over, wrap your arms around her and go back to sleep.

"Please Santana," she begs, "It's important."

"Fine," you huff. It is a big day for her and she has been there in the past for you.

You manage to get this crazy girl out onto the balcony. It overlooks some piers and the river. You don't know which river. You just know it smells like the boys locker room.

"I think we should do some scales first," Rachel wrings out her hands. She paces the length of the balcony, which is only really a few yards long.

You grab her shoulders and look at her. She needs some Auntie Tana right now. "You. Will. Be. Great. You need to chill out. You need to know that you are the best singer I've ever heard. You need to know that this is not the end of the world. We're all moving to New York, school or not and you'll be on Broadway."

She looks at you, searching your eyes before nodding firmly. "Of course. Yes. Okay. So scales?"

You run a few scales with her before belting out A Boy Like That. You notice a few people on the street stopping to watch and even a few people taking pictures or videos with their phones. You don't mind though. You hit all your notes and Rachel hits all of hers.

When the songs is over the small crowd on the street claps. Rachel beams and you feel a slight blush on your cheeks. That's when you decide that you've sung enough. You slide the door open and step inside to find both Brittany and Quinn are awake.

You head straight for Brittany. She's sleepily sitting up in the bed, the blanket pooling at her waist. You crawl onto the bed and put your hands on either side of her hips. You press your forehead into her shoulder and use it to push her back onto her back. Her arms wrap around you and you can feel her smiling against your hair.

"Mmm," she hums. "I heard you singing."

You nod and kiss her shoulder. "Rachel wanted to practice."

"Why didn't you wake me up?" you hear Quinn softly ask from the bed a few feet away.

You turn your head to look at them. Rachel is spooned behind Quinn with her chin on Quinn's shoulder. "Because you're going to be with me all day. I don't want to wear out your voice before we even get dressed."

Quinn turns her head toward Rachel and kisses her.

"Get a room," you toss at them. But you barely get it out because Brittany is apparently now fully awake and flips you over onto your back. She smiles down at you with a proud look on her face. Her hair is falling all around her face in a mess of blonde. She looks wild like this. So you slide your elbows under yourself and push up so you can kiss her.

"Get a room," Quinn calls to you.

You and Brittany laugh and you fall back on the bed. You lull your head over to see Quinn smiling at you. She shoots you a wink before getting out of bed with Rachel.

You turn back to Brittany. She rests her body on top of yours like a blanket and folds her hands over your collarbone and rests her chin on top of them. "Guess what we're doing today?"

"Mani/pedi?" you ask and look over your nails over her head. They need it.

She chuckles and kisses the underside of your chin. "We're finding an apartment. So we can move to New York."

You send one hand diving into her hair and gently massage her scalp. "Are you sure you want to wake up with me everyday?"

"Always," she purrs and turns her head, resting her cheek on the back of her hands. "I love you San."

"I love you too Britt," you kiss her forehead. You can't wait to wake up next to her everyday. You'll never get over how much she means to you. She's been your whole world since the day you met.

"Any requests for the apartment?" you ask Quinn and Rachel as they're getting dressed.

"Exposed brick," Rachel states, "And big windows."

"Just make sure our bedroom is far away from yours," Quinn snarks with a smile.

You roll your eyes mostly just for show. That's secretly one of your criteria as well. You have a feeling that when they actually do have sex, it'll be constantly and probably loud. At least that's what you hope happens when you and Brittany finally start doing it again. You feel like you're going to explode every time she touches you.

"Okay," Rachel says after she's awoken her dads and is dressed and ready for her audition. "We're going to have breakfast at Tiffany's for luck. I won't have my phone at all today because I don't want to be distracted. Text Quinn the pictures. She knows what I like."

"I bet she does," you say crassly. She knows you're joking and only hits you with a pillow.

At breakfast, you, Brittany and your mom look over your map again.

"You know girls," your mom says. "Quinn's mom and I were talking last night and since the market is down and we both have the means and since you girls are going to be probably staying here even after college... we're just going to go ahead and buy you an apartment instead of renting."

Your eyes get wide. That totally expands your search. That's also really...permanent. You look over at Brittany who is grinning. You take her had under the table. "You know what this means right?"

She smiles at you, kissing your cheek. "Yeah."

Some people think Brittany is dense or a little slow, but you know it's not true. She know exactly what that means and she's okay with it. You let out a little sigh of relief.

Soon, you're all one the phone talking to people whose apartments you want to look at. So far you're booked straight from now until four thirty.

"Four thirty," Brittany says then she smiles, "Thanks." Then she hands up and writes another address under your ever-growing list.

"So," your mom finishes off her coffee, "Shall we?"

After the first two apartments you don't see what's so great about them. They're all pretty small, but you don't really expect more. You don't know what to look for though. You're just following Brittany and your mom helplessly around, trying to figure out how you're going to know which one is the one.

That is until you're leaning on the doorframe of one of the living rooms. You feel Brittany walk up behind you and hold you around your waist. "What do you see?"

You tilt your head back, "What do you mean?"

She lets go of you and takes your hand pulling you away from the living room and into the doorway of one of the bedrooms. Her hands on your waist direct you to standing in the middle of the doorway.

"Do you see our bed?" she asks, hovering behind you. "Do you see all of our stuff?"

You squint at the room, not sure you can do it. Then it hits you. Like you should have always seen it. The window is high off of the ground, casting a slanted light where the bed would be. And you can see it. Brittany's bed, your sheets, Brittany's nightstand and your lamps. You can see her sleeping soundly in her cute pajama shorts and a tank top.

You want to make sure it's not just you so you ask, "What do you see?"

"I see," she pauses and walks into the room. She stands right where you think the bed should go. She turns around any looks at you. She takes a deep breath. "I see your desk over there," she points to the corner, "And the bed here," she gestures to where she's standing. "And you'll start studying at your desk like you do at home, but you'll end up on the bed with me." She smiles at you. And you can feel it. You can feel all of the love in her eyes and the joy in her smile.

"So this one is a yes?" you smile at her and walk up to her, wrapping your arms around her.

She smiles and kisses you, "Yes. This one gets a yes, but we have to look at the rest of them."

You agree, but for now this is your standard because you can see it. You can see yourself with her in this space.

Of course in the next apartment you can see her sitting on the kitchen counter eating an apple and reading her favorite book. Then you can see her stretching in the sun streaming through the windows. Quinn has only turned down three apartments on Rachel's behalf, which leads you to believe that you're on the right track.

On the way to the sixth apartment you stop by Rachel's audition. She's in the middle of her audition so you all decide to stay with Quinn, her mom and Rachel's dads. The waiting room is small. It's long and skinny with benches up and down the sides.

Quinn holds your hand and is taking deep breaths. You think that she may be more nervous that Rachel. You lean into her and bump her shoulders. "She'll do great."

"I know," Quinn smiles at you. "We practiced all the way here and you helped this morning. I can't keep up with her vocally like you can. She's so amazing. I just really want her to be happy."

You feel Brittany's hand rest on the small of your back and you smile at the touch and you know that she knows even when you're not looking at her. You instead focus on Quinn. "She'll be happy no matter what because she's moving to her dream city in what will be her dream apartment with you. We'll all make it work. If you and I have to quit school to support her and her dream, that'll be what we do." You lower your voice, "Same with Brittany. They're our girls right? Their dreams _will_ come true."

Quinn nods. She meets your eyes and you know that you have an understanding that no one else probably understands. She hugs you and you feel Quinn grab onto Brittany, pulling her into the hug. Brittany is pressed to your back and Quinn to your front. You love this blonde sandwich you're in.

It's silent in the hallway when you hear the door creak open. Rachel steps out with a blank look on her face. There's a piece of paper in her hand. She looks from the ground to her dads and then to you. Everyone stands in anticipation.

Finally a smile breaks. "I got a callback for this evening!"

Everyone rushes her for a hug. There are tears in her eyes and she grabs Quinn by the back of the neck, pulling her down for a way more than G-rated kiss.

When she pulls back, she smiles and hugs Quinn hard. "Shall we go get something to eat? I have to be back here at six thirty."

Rachel seems really relaxed while you eat. She's more confident and certainly more affectionate with Quinn. Her eyes land on your and Brittany, "So, how is the apartment hunt going?"

"Great actually," you say. "It's probably going to come down you guys looking at it tomorrow."

"I'm so excited!" Rachel squeals. She throws her arms around Quinn and squeezes causing both girls to laugh.

When you're done eating, the Fabray-Berry mass heads back to Juilliard and you, Brittany and your mom go back on the apartment hunt.

"Santana," your mom calls you in the middle of an apartment. Brittany's off looking at the bathrooms.

You turn around and look to your mom who is standing in the middle of the living room. She has her arms crossed and she's brushing her shoe over the floor.

"Mom?" you ask, tentatively pulling your mom into the conscious world.

She smiles at you and pulls you into her arms. She holds you there, her heels making her just a little bit taller than you.

"Are you okay?" you ask her, taking a step back to look up at her.

She smiles and you notice tears in her eyes. She sniffles. "Santana, I know that I haven't been the best parent to you. Your father and I..."

"You don't have to," you shake your head. You know that they've been distant at times, but your mom always feels bad afterward and tries to fix it. Your dad just keeps throwing money at you.

"I..." Your mom picks up your hair and takes a deep breath. "Santana, I'm just so, so proud of you. You're going to a great school. You're a strong young woman. You've surrounded yourself with good people. Brittany is more than I could ever ask for in someone for you." She takes a deep breath. "You just grew up too fast and you're leaving all too soon."

"You can always come visit us," you tell her against your better judgment. "I love you."

"I love you too," she hugs you again. "I wish there was more I could do for you."

"Well, you can come with us when we move in," you tell her, again against your better judgment. You don't know how Brittany will take her coming with you and probably decorating your whole apartment.

"Oh, we can go shopping!" she says excitedly. She starts looking around the current apartment talking about drapes and materials.

You spot Brittany in the doorway, just watching. She smiles at you when she sees you, see her. She pushes off of the wall and moves to you, scooping you up in her arms. You can feel your feet dangling of off the ground so you hold onto her.

"This is it," she smiles you at you. It's like she knows. You're pretty sure that she does. She's always had a sense that is never ever wrong. She kisses you in the middle of the living room of the apartment. _Your_ future apartment. In New York City.


	25. Emotion by The Bee Gees

You sit in the soft grass in the cemetary. You read the name etched in the stone in front of you. Jenny Fabray. Loving daughter and sister. You drop your head and look down at the grass. It's so hard to believe that she's there, under the grass and dirt.

You look back up at the headstone then up at the sky. You like to think that she's up there instead. Floating in the clouds. She used to love birds. She could go on and on about birds. Most of the time you zoned out because really who cares that much about birds, but now you wished that you would have listened.

"So, I'm moving to New York," you exhale. You lay down in the grass and look at the sky. It's better to talk to the sky.

You tell her about when you were in New York, Puck called Rachel. She had him checking your mail for you.

_"Quinn," Rachel excitedly calls you over to her while you're looking at the closests of one of the apartments Brittany and Santana picked out._

_You walk over to her. She grins at you with her phone pressed to her ear. "I had Noah go check your mail. Guess who you got a letter from."_

_You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. You know what it is. It's a letter from NYU or Columbia or some other university. Rachel takes your hand sensing your nervousness. "Hey," she says softly, "We don't have to find out right now. We can wait. I just thought you'd want to know. I'm sorry."_

_"No," you shake your head, "Don't be sorry." You swallow what's left of your fear and apprhension. You nod. "Tell him to open it."_

_Rachel puts her phone on speaker. You suppose Puck asking you if you were sure in the empty bedroom drew the attention of everyone else in the apartment. You can feel your mom standing behind you as Puck says that the letter is from NYU._

_"What is that?" she asks._

_You turn to look at her and see that Brittany and Santana are smiling next to each other, waiting for your result as well. Suddenly all the pressure you put on yourself has multiplied by all the people standing in the room._

_"Alright," Puck says after a ripping noise. "Ooh fancy paper."_

_"Noah," Rachel says warningly._

_Puck pauses, "Quinn Fabray, we are pleased to offer you admission to New York University..."_

_That was all you heard. You felt Rachel jump into your arms and your mom touch your back. Then you feel Brittany and Santana jump into the fray, throwing you all into a group hug._

_When the noise subsided, you can hear Puck calling your name. You lean close to the phone in Rachel's hand. "What's up Puck?"_

_"There's more," he says. "It says, "We're also pleased to offer you an academic scholarship.' You have to go online or whatever to look at it, but fuckin' A, baby mama. You did it."_

_Your mom didn't take too much of a liking to him calling you baby mama, but you didn't mind because whne you looked into Rachel's eyes and saw all that pride and love she has for you, you know that yes, you did do it._

"Anyway, we got that apartment," you smile wistfully at the headstone. "Rachel loved it and I'm pretty sure Brittany and Santana already decorated their room in their head before anyone called the owners. We're all going in on it together. Like we're buying the apartment. Santana dropped a huge part of her trust fund for the deposit, but her part is payed for and I'm pretty sure her mom is going to put that money back into her account.

"I think she's just now realizing how much of Santana's life she missed out on always being gone. She's up there right now with them buying furniture," you pluck another blade of grass. "Brittany's whole family is up there. I don't know how they did it, but their bedroom is like the perfect blend of both of them." You fall back on the soft grass and smile. "It's like they've been planning to move in together since they met."

_Rachel's sitting at your computer patiently looking at the monitor. You're still moving around your room, starting the process of deciding what to take and what to leave when you join Brittany and Santana in your apartment in a seven weeks._

_"C'mere," Rachel calls to you. When you look up from the pictures you were taking off of the wall, she's smiling at you. That special smile that's only for you. You walk over to her and she takes your hands. "Don't you think you're packing a little early?"_

_You grin. "I don't want to forget anything."_

_She pulls you down by your hands and kisses you. "You won't."_

_You dip down to kiss her again when you hear Santana's voice, "Get a room."_

_You and Rachel laugh turning to the computer screen. Santana's face is in the video chat window. Behind her you can see the kitchen. She's in a white tank top and her hair is up in a messy ponytail."We do have a room," Rachel answers, "It's down that hallway behind you."_

_"Don't remind me that I have to watch you two make out all the time," Santana rolls her eyes, but none of her old bite is there. She looks so happy, like she's finally being herself - absolutely and completely 100% Santana._

_"Where's Britt?" you ask. Santana told you that thir sexual dry spell is over since they moved into the apartment. Now they're going through a very w- um... un-dry figured that Brittany would be attached to Santana's hip._

_"She's in class," Santana picks up her laptop and you see your apartment moving behind her as she walks into hers and Brittany's bedroom. "I know you didn't get to see it Rach because you were singing for deaf people or something so check it." She flips the laptop in her hands and shows you both her bedroom._

_You saw it last week when Rachel was giving on last performance at the Lima Community Theatre, but they added a few things._

_Their bed is a very modern looking platform bed, the headboard a very dark wood. The sheets and blankets are a mess on the bed, but the dark outer blankets and the light inner sheets make it look very inviting. There are matching nightstands with lamps on either side of the bed. Brittany's side already has textbooks on it and Santana's is pretty clean._

_"It's beautiful Santana," Rachel says sincerely._

_Santana spins her laptop back toward her. "Thanks."_

_"Has our furniture arrived?" Rachel asks. You know she's been holding that in. You spend a whole weekend in your bedroom picking out your new bedroom set and then had it shipped right to the apartment._

_Santana nods, "Yeah, it got here this morning, but you're going to have to wait for Britt to get home for anything to get put together. You don't want me to do it."_

_You finally move to sit in Rachel's lap because you're tired of bending over. She wraps her arms around you and rests her chin on your shoulder. She then asks another question that you know she's been dying to ask. "So how is it? Living in New York? Is it fabulous?"_

_Santana laughs and tells you everything. All the stores and delis and bodegas and the people. She talks until she has to leave for work as a receptionist at a gym down the street from the apartment._

"It's so weird," you tell the sky. "Brittany, Santana, and I all started the Cheerios and high school together. Now we're all starting college together. Well, Brittany already started, but we're all going to the same place." A grin forms on your lips, "I guess Santana was right. No one can really break up the Unholy Trinity."

You sit up and just look at the headstone. Jenny Fabray. You read her name over and over again. "I'll talk to you when we get to New York tonight. It's going to be..." when you smile this time there are tears in your eyes. "It's going to be amazing. The best years of my life. I can feel it." You stand up and walk over to the gravestone and run your hand over the smooth stone. "I wish you were here to see it Jenny." You bend over and kiss the top of the granite. Then you give it one last pat before taking the first steps away.

You follow the trail to the front gate and stop at a little lookout point that's looking over the cemetary. You take a seat on the bench and lean into Rachel. She puts her arm around you and kisses your head. "Are you okay?" You nod and rest your head on her shoulder. It's peaceful here. Just her in her arms with the green grass and the birds. You feel like you need this rest because a week after you land tonight, Rachel starts her classes at Juilliard. You start two days later and that's it. That's the start of your life outside of Lima.

"This is it huh?" she asks, taking your left hand with her left hand and running her thumb over your knuckles.

You sit up and look at her face. She's smiling. She's ecstatic. This is her dream and you are so, so happy to be along for the ride. "Yeah. This is it.”

She turns her eyes from the grass and the gravestones to you. She rests her forehead against yours. Her eyes are joyous and full of light. "It's just you and me kid." You laugh and kiss her. You're so ready to start your life with Rachel. "C'mon. Let's get out of here." She stands with you and you walk hand in hand out of the cemetery and into the next chapter of your life.


End file.
